Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

PART 1

-----: “Alright, let’s see if you’re working right. Test 14 of value weighting within cognitive framework. Unit, what is your primary purpose?”

-----: “To supply administrative and logistic support so Project Gestalt may be completed.”

-----: “Why?”

-----: “Project Gestalt will ensure the survival of Mankind.”

-----: “Damn it, response unacceptable. That is a definition. Why must Project Gestalt succeed?”

-----: “To ensure the survival of Mankind.”

-----: “Why must Mankind survive?”

-----: “Mankind must survive.”

-----: “No! Again, why must Mankind survive?”

-----: “Mankind must survive.”

-----: “Test cancelled. Another logic loop started.”

- Archived Recording, September 5th, 2031. Participants UNKNOWN.

Nothing good had ever fallen from the sky.

The first such incident brought the apocalypse. The sky cracking open and an abomination that should never have been finding its resting place in a city once called Tokyo. Even dead its decaying flesh carried a profane curse, and the trackless particles of the grotesque creature damned all who inhaled it to death.

Or worse.

In time that incurable illness would spread across the world. Infecting all who lived and making clear that this was to be the last generation of man.

But in their desperation they found an escape from their fate. Hope, however horribly faint and no matter how costly the price, remained. But it would take a long time for their final gambit to return to them a world free of the plague.

So they created machines. Artificial beings in their image that would tend for the world while they could not. The androids were to be their loyal caretakers during this millennia of torpor. They would remove the infection, destroy the carriers of the plague…

And most important of all;

They would ensure that Mankind returned.

On this last matter they failed utterly.

And in their despair that they had never been meant to feel, they wept tears they should never have been able to cry. They lived on in graveyard cities that would never be reclaimed by their creators and begged for a new purpose.

And their unsaid prayers were answered by the second invasion.

***

11945, November 3rd. Six months since the end of the 14th Machine War and Absolute Victory.

Even now she still dreamed of war.

The wars she had fought, those she had seen, and those she could only have imagined baring witness to.

She knew only of the first horrible cataclysm by pieces of historical record. For which she was eternally grateful. It had been hard enough sending her brave soldiers forth do battle and die to preserve the lie of humanity's survival. To see them actually perish, their recorded deaths separated from any aid she could render by ten millennia would have been so much worse. She had seen recordings of the second many times however. The initial confusion as the androids still struggling to preserve what of humanity's legacy they could came under assault by strange merciless invaders from beyond. They hadn't even truly done much to fight off the initial invasion, instead being saved from sudden extermination by other older creations of mankind. By the time the ceaseless wars began the situation had changed and it was now their responsibility to defend the grave of Mankind.

Or so she had thought.

She knew from what the surviving units had told her that affairs had changed even if she had not witnessed it. Her death came towards the end of what she now understood had supposed to be a war without end. And given the nature of her demise her own secret data backup had been several days behind.

To awaken when she did, reconstructed on the surface of Earth at long last free of the machines had been quite a shock. More so to learn that her primary purpose had been rendered quite unnecessary. The fiction of living humans had been corrected, and though the false broadcasts from the lunar server would continue until someone stopped them, the android populace of Earth now knew that it was a lie.

And that she had been party to that lie. Perhaps ignorant to the extreme measures that were to be taken to protect it, but she had signed off on numerous deaths to ensure that their deception was maintained. At least one of the surviving YoRHa units had a very good reason to kill her again.

"Why did they even bring me back?" the former YoRHa commander White asked herself as she opened her eyes. While she could think of some reasons they might have gone to all the trouble to retrieve backups of the other YoRHa units, her own reactivation remained an enigma. First that the Bunker's systems that had betrayed them had kept safe copies on another server for later use. And second that it had even done so to a non-YoRHa unit such as herself. Not that that was entirely true anymore in a technical sense since her reactivation.

Regardless of her slightly altered hardware, here she was. Alive, free to come and go as she wished from their compound. Which they should really settle on naming sometime soon.

It was far too large now to be called a mere camp, and the Resistance wasn't much of a resistance as they were the sole intelligence still active on Earth. But for the time being it was just their home.

A gradually growing expanse of metal and stone as sturdy utilitarian buildings were constructed in the ruins of one of humanity's once great cities. Nothing like the sterile perfection of the Bunker. But it was theirs at least.

White cocked her head slightly to the side as a message came in through the short range network they now had operating.

We're having issues with some of the older satellites. Would you still have the codes for them?

Standing up she sent a confirmation and left her room. Stepping out into the open air. The night illuminated by rows of glowing electric lights surrounded by insects attracted to the illumination. A painful sense of familiarity came to her for the briefest moments. Some fleeting mix of emotion and memory that did not feel entirely natural.

While she didn't have the same anger concerning the secret betrayal of the YoRHa she did share the desire to question those who had started their program. Who had thought it was a good idea to imprint memory data from replicants? Assuming that they hadn't somehow came to possess actual human memories for that purpose. It seemed profane to dishonor their creator’s memories thus. And all in pursuit of objectives she scarcely understood even after being an ignorant participant for centuries.

Though most of the rest were far more concerned with the destruction of androids through repeated cycles of refinement caused by the war. That all those deaths had been in service of a lie and to win a battle they had been designed to lose only made the loss more painful.

Why then did it not seem to matter as it should?

It was clear that the knowledge of humanity's ultimate fate had already been discovered by some other androids which no longer hid their discovery from their fellows. That that revelation had not precipitated panic, disorder, mass chaos, or attempted self-termination by all units exposed to it...

Well it left her feeling rather conflicted. Everyone just seemed to accept it and move on. Building a real stable settlement not suited for combat or defense. Others making their distracting hobbies and other interests their new primary focus. She'd seen one offering dance lessons of all things. Part of her just wanted to demand how they could act like this? How could they forget that humanity was gone? That they had failed time and time again to serve their creators? That they hadn't even truly won the war.

Not that that had ever been the intention, but it was still grating that everyone seemed to put the past behind them so quickly. Quicker then she could.

Perhaps the issue was that her role was no longer necessary. She could no longer command anything. The androids on Earth had long ago created their own personal hierarchies, and while they were officially subordinate to YoRHa there had never been a means of enforcing compliance other than sending an execution unit.

And the only one of those nearby to begin with had barely said a word to her in the months since her reactivation.

Even as she approached the effective community leader Anemone, 2B had only glanced at her and quickly moved away to one side so as to avoid having to directly speak to her previous commander. Standing by a pair of reactivated operators working to set up the ground based communications and control center.

Anemone at least didn't seem to treat her differently than anyone else. "White, I'm glad you came so quickly."

"It was no problem. I can only hope that might be able to help."

"So do I. We've been trying to get a better satellite network functioning after so many got attacked a few months ago. And 9S mentioned that there were older satellites that had been shunted off but never recovered."

"Yes, the earlier ones have likely de-orbited and burned up by now but if they're less than a century or two old we could bring them back online."

"That's what I wanted to hear. Having to rely on scouts and aerial spotters has been limiting our efforts. Plus we have lousy communication ranges for the moment too. If you can fix that it would be a great help."

"With the proper codes it should be a simple matter." Whitewalked over to the nearest computer terminal and began entering her administrator codes. "I'm surprised you asked me to help though. The systems shouldn't be that strongly encrypted."

"Better safe than sorry. I wouldn't want us to have the system lock us out and force us to physically fly up there to fix or replace them if we don't need to."

"Yes we don't have many vehicles capable of that anymore,” White said. Focusing more intently on her task as she tried not to think about how she might have died when the Bunker had suddenly opened itself up to enemy infiltration.

"For the moment Ma'am. But I've been re-purposing one of the abandoned machine factories to make component parts for more." 9S had come up beside her. He had made more of an effort to put her at ease since her reactivation. Though she couldn't imagine why.

How many times had she ordered his death and memory wipe?

"That's... good. That's a good idea 9S."

"I thought so too. I mean if the machines could use it to construct complicated machinery we should be able to as well."

She nodded in response, her attention centered on the problem before her. Her first code had proven incorrect, likely not old enough. And the next had also been wrong, probably removed by a minor security upgrade that she didn't remember.

It was considerably harder to do this when she couldn't check against the Bunker's own network. On Earth however there was very little of the constant electric buzz of wireless systems awaiting a response. More than there had been even a few weeks ago, but still a shockingly small number. The public network for the compound and a few others that had been set up for less important uses. Including one that seemed store and to distribute pictures of birds and little else. Some were even password locked and kept private.

A gross volition of protocol if Anemone didn't secretly have access.

Which she very well might not.

Things were so different now.

"There. That one was accepted."

"Oh! We're getting something," one of the operator units said.

Anemone gave White a pat on the shoulder as she stood back up, "Thanks for helping us with that. Now we can hopefully find out how other groups are doing without having to send a messenger to-"

"Ah... Commander-Anemone I mean... there's something weird now."

Soon the operator was even more flustered, as everyone's attention was focused on her. She turned back to her console and fiddled with the controls. "I mean it's probably nothing... since it really should be nothing now, right? But I'm detecting something and-"

"And what? What did you find?"

"Well I wasn't sure at first until the second satellite also detected it but... there's something out there."

The silence that followed seemed far, far longer than the actual 1.3 seconds.

"What do you mean by something?"

"It's big... about one hundred and eighty meters long. It's giving off a large amount of thermal radiation and is currently one hundred and fifty thousand kilometers above the Earth's surface."

White found herself standing shoulder to shoulder with 2B by necessity as they crowded near the monitor. Using VR imaging would have been preferable but the image they were getting wasn't networked into that system yet. Forcing them all to gaze at the grainy image on the screen as the operator tried to resolve it into something clearer.

"That's not one of ours."

"I... I don't think we've ever seen a ship like that," 9S said.

It was long and narrow, with a soft rounded surface that lacked both the simplicity that machine life tended towards and the angular designs that humanity and androids used. Towards the rear of the vessel where the majority of the heat signature could be seen there were numerous more clearly metallic protrusions about what could only be a colossal engine system. The surface was discolored and pitted in places. Possibly decorative but looking closer to physical damage to the surface structure of the ship.

"Is it a machine lifeform?"

"... No. There's no sign of their native network signal from it all. If it's one of theirs it's completely dormant."

Conversation began to break out among the androids nearby. Though White noticed that 2B had glanced towards Anemone and they had opened a private channel. She swallowed her anger that they would hide their communications from her. Quickly reminding herself that Anemone was the trusted leader here. And that 2B, along with the other surviving YoRHa units were seen as heroes for both freeing the android populace from the threat of the machines and spreading the truth of humanity's fate.

She was in no position to demand that they do as she desired.

"Oh no..." the operator said, gasping in horror at what she was seeing.

"What's happening now?"

"It-it's entering the atmosphere. I think it's going to land!"

***

"Are you sure about this 2B? We could wait for A2 to come back... or try and reach her again at least. Even if she’s had another unexpected delay she should still be back by tomorrow."

"There's no time 9S. The unidentified vessel is going to land in less than an hour," 2B said. Checking over her flight unit as she prepared to leave. "Besides she's in the opposite direction of the estimated landing zone. Someone needs to get there as quickly as possible."

"This could be dangerous."

"I know. But it's only recon. I don’t intend to engage an unknown alien force on my own."

"Then I should go. I'm the Scanner after all."

"How's your arm?" 2B asked, turning towards 9S. An unnecessary gesture now that her VR mask was on.

"It's... fine. I'm fine."

"You're lying. The parts for S units are harder to come by. And the lack of communications between outposts has kept us from getting the necessary materials to fabricate our own replacements."

"Even then I should-"

"9S. Nines," 2B said. Stepping forward to reassure 9S, half embracing him while hesitating as she noted the uneven damage he had yet to have repaired. "I'll be fine. I have your pod to replace mine for the moment."

"We should really go about getting another one of those."

"There hasn't really been time to worry about that. And most of the time when we've left the compound it's been in groups of two. It's just bad luck that this happened while A2 was away."

"Still..." 9S began to say, clearly trying to find an argument that could be used. Without success. "Good luck 2B. Just stay safe out there."

"I intend to."

The flight unit rose up into the air, transitioning from bipedal landing mode to long distance flight form and rocketed away. Vanishing over the tops of the ruined skyscrapers as she headed towards the probable landing locations.

While 9S quickly headed back towards their now quite active command center. Even if he couldn't join 2B in the field he would at least try and provide support from here.

***

"I'm approaching the landing zone now. No signs of the unknown entities yet."

"We can't pin down their landing site to a greater level of detail then we already have at the moment. But you should be within a two kilometers,” 9S said over her radio.

"Affirmative."

2B continued to fly above the trees of this mountainous forest, skimming not far from the tops. Remaining low and hopefully obscured in case the vessel had some anti-air capability it might reveal at an inopportune moment. Though once she found the ship itself she fully intended to approach on foot. She could at least hope to remain hidden for long enough to identify what had landed. Her flight unit was completely incapable of achieving the same result.

"I have visual confirmation of the landing site," 2B said. Magnifying the image and relaying it back through pod 153. The alien ship had landed half a kilometer away on a lightly forested hill. Several trees had broken off from a collision while previously hidden stabilizing legs had extended from the base. It had landed standing up, a great brownish black column. Smoke rose from fires likely started by the enormous heat the ship had been exuding and was only now finally losing in the cold night air.

She could also see that the earlier damages were far more severe. Thick armor had been broken off in places and some portions of the ship would have to be exposed to vacuum from the resulting damage.

"Well we can definitely say that they didn't get here without a scratch," 9S said over the communication channel as he received her visual data.

"I'm landing now for a closer approach."

Disembarking from her flight unit, 2B quickly made her way towards the ship. Taking greater and greater precautions as she drew ever closer to the landing site. Eventually darting from one tree to the next to remain out of sight with only her borrowed pod as company hovering close by.

Till at last she came near the edge of the trees close to the landing site. The spacecraft looming above her while the fires started slowly burned themselves out among dry grass that had not yet recovered from their long summer.

"I... I have visual,"

"Visual on wh-oh."

2B adjusted her view and magnified the image. Centering on the enormous vaguely insect like creature that had scuttled out of an opening in the ship and climbed to the ground. Mottled brown carapace and four large legs combined with its slightly curved body to give it an appearance somewhere between a shrimp and crab. With another pair of manipulating arms and long whip like tendrils from its back it left her feeling uneasy with the way it moved. Soon it started walking around the ship in a spiral pattern, slowly covering the ground and inspecting it with its antenna.

"Could it be one of the aliens?" 2B asked. "The ones that caused the first invasion?"

"No. I don't think so. The ships design is too different and there still doesn't appear to be any sign of machine lifeforms."

"Maybe they stopped using them after-wait, something's happening."

There appeared to be a great deal of activity suddenly. More and more of the aliens were pouring out of the ship. Dozens and dozens till at least a hundred were spread out in the field chittering loudly

Or so it had appeared.

Did I count wrong?, 2B thought to herself. Communicating with her pod to get a check on the number of unknown entities. Which only confirmed that some of the ones that had come out of the ship had already vanished. "This isn't good. I need to pull back until we have more information."

"2B! We're losing----. They know you're-" 9S’ voice caught off as a static filled the channel until she completely lost all communication ability.

She needed to leave now.

Her retreat was far quicker, forgoing stealth for speed. Only for her passage to be cut off by others that had somehow sneaked up behind her. And were even now emerging from tunnels in the earth.

"They can burrow underground?"

*Re-configuring to detect seismic micro-tremors. Warning. Imminent threat.*

Responding to the pod's alarm, 2B rolled to one side as she felt the ground under her feet erupt outwards into a thrashing alien monster. Though that was hardly the only one to be charging towards her now. It seemed like every alien in the ship intended chase her down as a swarm.

*Hostiles surrounding extraction point. Attempting to corral into close combat engagement. Advise use of long range weaponry.*

"I know," 2B said. Still... maybe there was another way? "I don't want to fight you. If you'll ju-"

She ducked to one side and rolled away from an ejection of fluid from one of the aliens. Smoke rose from where it impacted and began to burn through the bark of the tree beside her.

That was pointless. Of course we wouldn't share a common language. Another stream of acid narrowly missed her while her pod continued to warn of even more tunneling underneath. Save for the universal tongue combat.

Chapter Text

The command center had gone quiet when the EM interference from the ship had increased beyond their ability to compensate. While it wouldn't represent a danger to either 2B or her pod it did shut off communications given the equipment they currently had to use. Anemone's demand that they re-establish the signal had only been met with shaking heads and stuttered apologies.

Which meant she was out there alone, suddenly thrust into combat against an unknown alien force.

A pervasive sense of fear and dread began to fill the room. None of them had a way of offering help at the moment. Instead all they could do was sit and wait.

Hoping that 2B could move far enough from the ship to reestablish communications.

When they were rewarded with static from a speaker along with a garbled voice a palpable sense of relief went through the room.

"2B! Do you hear us?"

"-reporting in. A2 reporting in."

"A2?" 9S said in surprise. Soon almost shouting back," A2 where are you?"

"About sixty-three kilometers to the southwest and approaching fast. The coastal region was doing better than we thought and had only been cut off because of damage to their communication systems. They actually did that themselves when they realized the YoRHa network had been hit by a virus.”

"That's not important right now." Forwarding a packet of info on the alien vessel, he continued, "This was spotted shortly after we got satellite coverage working again. It's already landed two hundred kilometers to the west. 2B went to scout it out with our other flight unit."

"But she ran into these things instead?"

"Yes."

There was a brief pause before her response came back, clearer than before. "Mission confirmed. I am now rising to a higher altitude and accelerating towards the combat zone. Time to insertion is fourteen minutes."

"Thanks A2."

"No problem 9S. I’ll make sure she gets back safe,” she said, her voice less harsh as she tried to reassure 9S. “What are the rules of engagement?"

9S was taken aback by her question and looked to his side where Anemone was standing next to White. They both looked stunned by her question as well.

"I'm not sure I understand the question A2?" 9S asked, voicing the thought that many of them shared at the moment. “Could you explain what you’re asking exactly?”

"These aren’t machine lifeforms or any other designated enemy of Mankind. Should I attempt to limit engagement while retrieving 2B?"

White spoke first, her confusion giving way to irritation that they were even considering holding back against another alien force. "Negative. If they've landed on Earth and cut us off with electronic warfare they should be classified as an invading force and exterminated."

A2 did not acknowledge White's command. Instead her lack of response lingered on into an uncomfortable silence. Only broken when Anemone said, "I agree with White's current assessment. While you should not escalate your primary goal is to protect 2B and yourself. Whatever that takes."

"Confirmed. Hopefully they won’t be stupid enough to make me kill every last one."

***

Ranged combat would definitely have been preferred. While the aliens were not a threat to a YoRHa unit on a one-on-one basis the sheer number and their ability to quickly burrow through loose soil would have allowed them to quickly overrun her in close quarters combat and present a none negligible chance of injury. Added to the fact that they showed a lack of consideration for their own sense of self-preservation that rivaled even the machine lifeforms the danger of engaging the swarm at close ranges was self-evident.

If she could simply get far enough away 2B would have been in little danger. Their only projectile attack appeared to be highly acidic secretions. Not a pleasant form of physical damage, not that there was one in her experience, but hardly difficult to evade even from multiple attackers.

The problem currently was that long range was outside of her options. The enemy advanced on her from all directions. Continually reforming an enclosing circle if she should escape from one. And despite perforating many of their number the tide of carapace covered creatures continued seemingly without end. Even those that had been grievously injured continued to crawl towards her with what limbs still functioned.

They attacked endlessly in an effort to overwhelm her. And if her defenses ever wavered or they were able to pin her down they very well might be able to do so. She could at least take some satisfaction in knowing that it seemed that these new aliens might have to assault androids with vast numeric superiority to stand a chance at victory.

Then again most of the androids on Earth weren't Execution models. If it had been Anemone or someone else without heavy combat modifications who had investigated the landing site...

"They’d already be dead. Torn apart by these creatures."

Luckily that hadn't happened. Nor had she relented and let 9S go in her place. While he was as capable as herself some of his injuries had yet to be fully repaired. The lack of S unit bodies to salvage for the rarer components had presented a difficulty that didn't exist for 2B. There were droves of spare parts available for her and the fabrication of more was already within their means.

A situation that should be rectified once they got in touch with other surviving settlements.

He also would have been at a disadvantage against what appeared to be a highly aggressive and completely biological entity for another reason as well. These creatures seemed to use no weaponry or equipment of any sort, and if they did have a communication network to disrupt it might even be beyond his ability to affect if it could continue to function under this much interference.

*Warning. New hostile detected. Larger mass incoming.*

"Incoming?"

2B turned around towards her pods warning just in time to see a larger version of the creatures throw itself towards her. Leaping from the crest of a hill and falling down over several meters. She targeted it for ranged fire but the holes blown through its body did nothing to arrest its motion. As she attempted to dodge to one side the ground beneath her trembled and one of the creatures bit down on her right leg.

She sliced through its mandibles before they could press in but no longer had the time to move out of the way. Bracing herself she sliced forward, cutting the larger one in half.

"Wha-"

Only the top remained alive long enough for its tentacles to grab hold of her arms and drag her down with it. She rolled end over end down the hill. All the while she tried to wrest her hands free while avoiding the snapping mandibles of the dying alien. Coming to a stop only when she collided with a half rotten fallen tree far from where she first collided. She twisted to one side as it reared back and struck again. The acid splattering onto her face as she did so. Kicking backwards through the log she left the now dead alien behind her as she tore her VR mask off.

It seemed to have soaked most of the acid up and suffered the worst from the brief contact. And her eyes hadn't been damaged luckily. Reaching out she called her sword back to her from where it was still stuck in the alien corpse and began to sprint towards her flight unit. Though without her VR mask it was harder to coordinate motion while checking her position on her personal map.

"How close am I?"

*53.2 meters. More hostiles inbound. A large mass is also located in the current direction. Recommend tactical withdrawal.*

"I can't do that. I have no idea how far these aliens are willing to chase me. With the flight unit I can at least lose them so they can't track me down."

A large mass might have been an understatement. There were at least a hundred of the creatures swarming toward her as she approached the area where she had parked her flight unit. With it grounded for the moment and deactivated they seemed to be ignoring it, but if she remotely called it in they might attack it before she could climb on board.

Retreat no longer seemed like a possible solution.

"Target all hostiles for engagement."

*Confirmed.*

"Open fire," 2B said. Blade at the ready to attack anything that drew to close while her pod fired upon the approaching swarm. Though she had only just begun to counterattack when fiery salvation came from on high. Missile bombardment saturated the tightly packed group as another flight unit flew in close to the ground. Coming to hover nearby as it switched to bipedal engagement mode.

"Looks like you kicked over an anthill. Need any help 2B?"

"A2! How did you get her so fast?"

"I was already coming back when this started." Firing off another salvo at the surviving aliens she continued, "We don’t have time to waste chatting."

2B nodded, falling in next to the older model's position and acting as a close combat defense. With the superior firepower of the active flight unit and her own substantial close combat skill the aliens were no longer able to meaningfully threaten them.

Though they didn't stop either.

***

Once A2 had neared the landing site their communications had become harder to maintain. Visual died off first, though not before they got to see 2B facing off against a horde of the unknown creatures flooding through the forest.

Shortly after A2 confirmed that she was engaging the aliens directly even audio became unreliable. Leaving them all to wonder how things were going in the tense silence. The demands to reestablish contact eventually died off and they were left trying to get the jury rigged system to deal with unfamiliar forms of electronic interference. To little success as the minutes passed without any communication from either A2 or 2B.

So it was an immense relief when they at last heard a garbled response.

"- 2B re-. 2B reporting in. Can you confirm my signal?"

"Yes. 2B are you alright?" 9S asked.

"Yes. Only superficial damage sustained. Thanks to A2 anyway."

"That's good to know. Are on your way back now?"

"There's... something of a situation here."

"What kind of situation?"

"We terminated the hostiles," 2B answered. Not sounding particularly triumphant about that point. "All of them."

"Wait. All of them?" Anemone asked.

"Yes. They didn't retreat when A2 arrived and further investigation showed that there were no more located on the ship."

"They all just attacked you at once?"

"Yes."

"Well what's the problem then?" White asked suddenly. "If all hostiles have been terminated then you shouldn't have any remaining issues."

The next response was delayed.

"2B? Are you alright?"

"We found something on the ship."

***

"Absolutely not! How can we even be considering this?"

"Because this explains their behavior. It was a defensive reaction."

"Just because they were defending themselves doesn't mean we should spare them!"

"All life naturally strives to protect its own existence. We shouldn't make a rash judgment about their intentions."

"They came with an invading force and an egg. I might not be able to look up encyclopedia information on insect life-cycles at the moment but I'm fairly certain human entomologists cataloged this kind of behavior. This has every sign of an invasive species attempting to invade and destroy our home. Mankind's home."

"White... there was obvious damage to the ship before it landed. They had been fired upon."

"Then whoever did that had more sense then you."

Anemone bristled at White's response but did not lash out as the previous commander was. Though she could understand her emotions. They did not have good history with alien invaders.

"2B. Have you determined anything new about the egg?"

"This is A2. 2B is inside the ship scanning the interior at the moment. I have more info. Sending it over now."

"Confirmed," 9S said. Displaying the enormous black egg they had found in storage on the ship. Almost a meter tall and covered in a semi-hard shell. Though close examination was impossible for the moment. "It looks like it’s in some kind of containment chamber?"

"They put it in cryogenic suspension. The temperature is substantially lower inside the enclosure and maintained by secondary and tertiary power systems disconnected from the ships own. Initial scans reveal that some kind of preservative fluid was injected into it as well. Pod 042 performed sonic imaging of the interior. The creature inside bares clear similarities to the ones that attacked us."

"Thanks for the updated information A2." 9S turned back to see that Anemone and White had stopped glaring at each other to look at the images forwarded to them.

Though they were hardly the only ones that had started arguing once the cargo of the ship was announced. The mere fact that such a clear threat had not been immediately terminated had drawn a number of androids into confrontation over what they saw as an obvious mistake. While others then rose to defend 2B and A2's caution.

What do you think about this 9S?

He paused for a moment at the private message from A2. Before sending his own reply.

I'm with you and 2B. We shouldn't escalate or engage in unnecessary violence. It's possible that this was merely a defensive response caused by previous injuries to their hive. Or swarm? I'm not sure what terminology is correct.

Not like we can ask them.

Could we even if they were still alive? There's never really been any breakthroughs in xenolinguistics. The machine lifeforms learned to communicate with us not the other way around.

Probably not. 2B is coming out so we should stop talking now.

Right. Thanks again for getting there so quickly A2.

"This is 2B. I've gone over what I think is the command center for the ship. While the computer language is indecipherable I was able to determine that they had constructed a very large signal jammer. Multiple in fact. Some created by tearing what was probably important components out of their consoles. This was likely why communications became so difficult for us."

"So they damaged their own ship to have an advantage over us?" White asked. "Their quick improvisation is surprising."

"No. Whatever they had constructed was put together some time ago. Some of the units had burned out from overuse and been repaired multiple times. We had to disconnect them just to prevent power surges from further damaging the ship’s own computer."

"Are you sure you killed them all? Could they have called out for rescue?"

"No," A2 responded. "I found what had to have been their communications system. Or the closest equivalent I could recognize. They had gutted it for spare parts and started using it to store garbage and ruined components from their jamming system. I don't know how long it took them to get to Earth but nothing that's happened since we noticed them could have been communicated."

"So all that's left is the egg?"

"Yes."

Anemone looked back at the screen in front of 9S. Still displaying the image of the lone surviving creature from the alien ship. Before turning around and seeing the numerous faces staring back at her. Both resistance members and reactivated YoRHa units that had been recovered. Some like White were clearly antagonized by the thought of another alien life being allowed to live on Earth.

Others were less hostile, if still clearly troubled by what they had discovered.

Was she really going to be the one that had to make a decision on this?

Could she take that responsibility? She had been accepted as the leader of the local android group for over a hundred years... but this seemed too weighty a decision to make on her own. What if the alien truly was hostile on an instinctual level? What if more of them came later seeking revenge?

9S.

Yes Anemone?

Open an anonymous network. Send all registered members an access notice with a random confirmation code.

"Done."

"You've all received a notice to a new network and a random code. You can check that the network is anonymous and won't save your ID when you reply," Anemone said. "When you feel ready you can send a reply. Telling me whether or not you think we should destroy the egg."

"We're voting?" White asked, completely incredulous at this decision. "On something like this?"

"Yes. What we do now could have ramifications affecting all androids. I'm not going to make such a decision lightly. If anyone wants to state a public argument for or against please do so know. But you don't have to if you'd prefer."

"You can't be serious. You're the commander here. You have the responsibility to make this decision."

"And I have that only because 2B and A2 decided to communicate back to us before taking action. I won't betray that trust." Anemone turned back towards the console and spoke directly into the microphone. "Do either of you have any objections to this?"

"No. A2 and I will act in accordance to the group’s decision."

"Then it's decided. Does anyone want to put forth an argument now?"

Most of the androids hesitated, unused to the idea of trying to sway public opinion on something of such importance. Several looked to White, clearly waiting for her to step forward in be the voice of reason in their minds. A responsibility she felt she had to take. If at least to provide some sense to counter act the naiveté the others were displaying.

"These aliens have invaded Earth. Be that they might be less dangerous than last invaders or at least already injured when they arrived. But that should not sway us from the obvious. They are a danger. To us and to Mankind's legacy. We can't risk them escaping and reproducing later. We've only now, after so many thousands of years, come to control Earth again. How can any of you think to risk that for some misguided notion of mercy? Have you all forgotten how close we've come to extinction? Even when the machine lifeforms had been pathetically primitive compared to what they had later became. They almost wiped us all out." White clenched her fists and made a gesture to encompass the entire crowed before her. "And with us all memory of Mankind would have died as well. Are you really willing to risk that again just so you can play at being paragons of virtue? Foolishly letting our eventual destroyers live among us?"

Murmured conversation broke out between them. Some whispered too quietly to hear while others went to inaudible private channels as they discussed what White had said. Responses started to come in, the more strongly convinced already having made up their minds. To destroy the egg.

"Wait."

From the back of the crowded populace one of the redheaded sister units spoke. Devola helping her sister stand as she handed her a crutch to make up for the leg that had been destroyed when the tower collapsed around them. Popola stepped forward from her always present companion before speaking.

"They didn't come here on purpose. Not like the last time. We saw that with how their ship was damaged long before they ever neared Earth. And they had struggled so hard to escape that they were tearing their own ship to pieces to do so. When they attacked us it was to protect themselves. To protect their own future. Would we have acted any different? If the last human and been in our charge would any of us retreated or surrendered, no matter the strength of the opponent? We could not tell them to stand down...

Devola struggled to her feet and placed her good arm around her twin’s shoulder to show her support. Looking into Popola’s eyes and nodding at her, urging her onto say out loud what the two of them had discussed in hushed whispers.

"And so we were forced to make them. But this," Popola gestured towards the image of the egg. "This isn't necessary. We are in no danger from that. And by what right do we claim that we can exterminate a species just because it frightens us?"

Her bravery finally faltering under the attention of the entire crowd, Popola seated herself once more beside her sister.

"2B and A2. Do you have anything else to add from your personal experiences with the new aliens?" Anemone asked.

"While they could be dangerous in a large group they were not significant threat. Not compared to machine lifeforms at least."

"I concur with 2B. Also I can't overstate the poor state they appear to have been in. For organic creatures to have traveled so far without even sufficient food stores on board supports the conclusion that this was not an invasion attempt."

Now more and more responses came in. One by one till everyone in the compound had replied back.

9S, what's the count?

141 to terminate. 160 against. Should I state the results?

Yes 9S. Thanks for helping with this.

"Then it's decided. The consensus has been to spare the unknown alien egg," Anemone said. "However I do not want that egg to hatch anytime soon. Can we make sure that the cryogenic system remains in place?"

"That shouldn't be a problem.” 2B replied. “Figuring out how to remove the egg without deactivating that system will probably be easier than moving the ship. Even if I understood the controls I'm not sure it can fly given the damage it had already sustained."

"We'll think of something. Even if we have to haul it out of the woods piece by piece."

***

“Well that’s over at least. I wasn’t so sure about it but…” A2 said, trailing off as she looked back towards the ship. “I guess we’ll see how it goes.”

“I agree. I’m also… conflicted. After everything that happened during the war I think we should take care with not to start fights we don’t need to. Still…”

“They still attacked us first. I know 2B,” A2 said. Walking away from the ship and kicking a small rock across the field. Where it skipped across the ground before colliding with one of the alien corpses. “If this was just an accident then it’s a pretty shitty situation. If not we’ll just have to deal with it then.”

2B nodded in agreement slowly walking to stand next to A2 as she surveyed the massacre they had left in their wake. The forest was shredded from fire and great gouts of smoke rose into the sky from the inferno the missile barrage had caused. There were storm clouds on the horizon.

Hopefully the rain would quench the flames and wash away the ashes. Leaving only the rotting corpses of the multitude that had fanatically attacked them on sight. Though given the extraterrestrial origins of the creatures they would not long lay where they fell. Someone would have the unenviable job of collecting them for quarantine, disposal, and later destruction.

“I’ll probably volunteer,” said 2B. She expanded on her sudden spoken thought for A2’s sake by saying, “For the cleanup. They’ll probably want combat models out here anyway while we secure the ship and figure out where we’re going to move the egg. Besides 9S will be coming to try and pull something from the computer.”

“Yeah, they’re going to-what the hell is that?”

A fast moving object hurtled up the side of the hill. Moving around the fires and bouncing on the uneven ground. To their shared surprise the recognized the ‘driver.’

“Emil? But… when we left the desert…,” A2 said. Stopping as she looked over to 2B. The happenstance of fate that had led them to both follow Emil was not something they had spoken of. She didn’t even know if 9S and her had talked about it, but for some reason she doubted it. There had been a weight to what had happened there, and she had felt almost relieved to once more fight the machines afterwards. She understood that, and her hatred of them gave purpose to the battle. What happened in the desert hadn’t been like that.

It had been euthanasia. For Emil it might even have been an attempt at something else.

She’d been certain he’d succeeded.

2B gave voice to that question. “I-I thought you were dead. How… how are you doing Emil?”

“Alright. I’m surprised you two are still alive. I thought when that weird tower rose up that something awful might happen to you… but I couldn’t really do anything more to help. I’m glad you survived.”

“You too kid,” A2 said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“About that, I wanted to thank you both. And 9S too. For helping me put them to rest. The last of them. I guess I couldn’t do it on my own.”

“That’s no problem Emil,” 2B said. Her excitement at finding out he had somehow survived finally giving way to confusion as she asked, “But what are you doing out here?”

“Oh… oh! Well I saw a shooting star that probably wasn’t one and hurried out. Like last time I guess? But you already dealt with it.”

“Yeah. It was no problem,” A2 said. “They didn’t stand a chance against us.”

After she spoke those words A2 realized that that was probably self-evident. Neither had been injured much at all and the entirety of the enemy force had been annihilated. And with what she had learned… was Emil thinking about his own victories like this? Or how meaningless they had been in the end?

“We didn’t kill all of them,” 2B said. Speaking almost like she was trying to make an excuse. “There’s an egg on board the ship. We’re going to… keep it safe. Somewhere until we know more.”

Emil turned his cart body towards the ship. In silence he stared at it for a long time before speaking again. “Huh. I guess you really have grown strong enough that you don’t need me anymore. That’s… good.”

With what they now knew neither could be certain if Emil was speaking to them alone.

“Hey cheer up. It’s not about needing you,” A2 said. Walking in front of Emil to block his view of the ship. “It’s just about being fair. There’s no reason you should have to keep dealing with this shit on your own.”

“I agree with A2. You don’t need to worry about this sort of thing anymore. I-we promise that we’ve become strong enough to defend the Earth ourselves.”

Emil’s expression was, as always, unreadable. Though when he spoke next both A2 and 2B relaxed. The tension they had started to feel after 2B made her sudden promise relieved. “Heh, well that’s good to know. Cause to tell you the truth I don’t think I have it in me to do all that again.”

“That’s fine. You won’t have to.”

Chapter Text

-----: I woke without pain.

-----: That I awoke at all should have been impossible. But to feel awareness once again after how it had ended was shocking. It felt like only a moment ago. I could almost hear the internal alarms still ringing insistently as I died.

-----: I remembered it. I remembered it all. The betrayal of my own mind as the logic virus tore it apart. Death… worse than death?

-----: Was that what the humans had called Hell? I don’t think I can imagine a worse fate so maybe that’s what it would be like for androids?

-----: But then what was this?

-----: This world… this sky of endless blue. A rising sun cresting the horizon and so bright it hurt to look at.

-----: I had died. I raised my hand to my chest and felt the undamaged cloth and the skin beneath it. The nerves fired without pain and I stood straight and steady on my feet as if the wound A2 and given me had only been a dream.

-----: I had died. So what was this? This new life, this new world, this new dawn before me?

-----: Is this… is this something else? The humans also wrote of some other place…

-----: Had I awoken there?

- Archive of Personal Data of YoRHa Model 2 Type B (E) on Reactivation 5/10/11945.

May 10, 11970.

"The weather report for Community is looking bright and sunny on this year’s New Dawn. This announcer's suggestion is to find a nice spot along a hill near the flight unit practice field for the celebration. Maybe even invite a special someone if you can. There's nothing quite as romantic after all..."

The voice on the radio sighed, probably overacting her part. Or maybe she was just the sort that got wrapped up in the sentimentality of an annual celebration.

"Oh right. And don't forget to purchase bouquets from local flower sellers. And I'm not just saying that because I'm supposed to! Flowers can be a gift from the heart. Anyway, now onto our musical selection. I dug up something special from the archives. I know the last few songs I found were a little weird, but this one sounds so neat! Take care and have a happy New Dawn!"

It wasn't long into the host’s selected song before 2B had turned off the connection. Continuing her leisurely walk through the growing settlement. While she had to admit it was better than the more experimental work that they had been playing recently she wasn't any more interested in listening to song in a human language she didn't actually know.

“It’s good that 6O found something to keep herself busy,” 2B thought, happy her old operator colleague had found something she enjoyed doing now that the war was over. Not that 2B hadn’t also kept busy.

Had she been on active duty her YoRHa Assault Uniform would feature streaks of blue against the black. There’d been some discussions over what would be appropriate in a post-war world and a more civilian use of their combat models. And while some androids had wanted to scrap the entire design scheme of YoRHa that had been vetoed as a waste of time and resources.

2B suspected they had just wanted an excuse to design clothes.

Instead she wore her old standard uniform, though without the mask. Passing a few motorized vehicles moving supplies to where the crowds would be tomorrow she returned the greetings of others along the road. Many of them were strangers coming to visit. She knew that they expected a large number of visitors given the fame their particular settlement had developed with both the large number of ex-YoRHa members that lived there and the annual celebration for the end of the Machine Wars.

Luckily she didn’t find herself the object of too much attention. Even if she held the honor of being the first YoRHa model to reactivate that had not singled her out too much. There were plenty of others for the visitors to meet with. She had better things to do then tell the same story she’d told at least a hundred times before.

The metal hangers were open and maintenance workers were taking the flight units out for a routine check as she approached. Looking from one to the next to find the particular android she sought.

Who seemed rather more covered in oil and grime then she expected. She hadn’t expected 9S to have that much trouble working with flight units. He’d picked up quite a bit of technical knowledge on them while getting factories to make replacement parts after all.

"Having trouble with repairs 9S?"

"Oh! 2B, I didn't realize you were going to come down here," he said wiping his hands clean as he approached 2B. "Actually this is from trying to get a tractor working."

"... Why?"

"I don't know actually, but the man who brought it in said he was going to use it to pull a float. Do you have any idea what he meant by that?"

"It must be part of the celebration I suppose."

"Yeah. New Dawn. Still can't believe they used the name you came up with."

2B frowned, looking away from 9S. "It's not like I intended for that to happen. I was just describing how it felt to wake up... afterwards. They just took what I said a bit more seriously then I intended."

"I think it's a nice name. And hey, it's the twenty-fifth anniversary already. I'm surprised everyone kept at it honestly."

"A lot of androids are weird I guess. They just liked having an excuse to celebrate," 2B said. Smiling slightly as she looked over to where the one of the flight unit pilots was inspecting their machine. But her smile quickly vanished as she turned back towards 9S. "I need to use a flight unit."

"We sort of need them all 2B."

"I know, but I need to perform my inspections. I've already spoken with A2 over at the testing grounds. I'll meet up with her there but it would take too long to travel the distance on foot."

"Alright. The one behind me has already been inspected and probably won't be missed during practice. Just don't scratch it up. The pilot registered to it gets real obsessive over damages."

"Thanks Nines. I should be back before evening. It's only the routine inspection."

Departing from the hanger 2B looked back to see 9S waving goodbye as she took to the air. Quickly leaving their home and the surrounding ruins behind as she climbed higher and higher into the air. Passing over wrecks of ruined machines still un-salvaged in the desert badlands. Before coming down towards another similar, if far smaller, looking encampment. Though where the hangers back at Community had stored flight units and repair tools these had a decidedly different things inside.

"Attention unknown flight unit. Please identify yourself,” came a voice over the communication channels as she started her approach for a landing.”

"This is YoRHa Unit 2B. Community Security Force."

"Acknowledged. Your arrival is scheduled. Please set your flight unit down by the Eastern enclosure to avoid disturbing the experiments ongoing at this facility."

2B didn't voice the mild frustration she felt now that she was going to have to walk from one end of the testing ground to the other. Unless A2 was already waiting for her with their Pods.

Which she wasn't.

***

"So as you can see it not only reduces the mass of matter within a field around it but can also be used to project an extremely localized gravity field. With proper control and enough power," the researcher continued as they proceeded to walk up the wall, “we can even produce a virtual gravity field identical to or greater than the Earth's own."

"And this is safe?" White asked, more for the benefit of the recording she was making. She’d already read the reports after all.

"Quite safe. Maybe even safer than the previous gravity control systems we use. Or at the very least it scales up far easier. With enough of the engine core material we could make an entire space station with virtual gravity."

"I see.” White took her own cautious steps up the side of the wall behind which the test panels had been built. Till she was also standing parallel to the ground. Her hair now falling slightly off to one side as it struggled between the Earth's own gravity and the field being generated. "This is definitely a good proof of concept for what we can do with the engine core material. Pod 153 please prepare this data for submission to the report. Our material collaborators will be pleased to know we’ve made such an intriguing breakthrough."

*Affirmative Commander.*

A2 rolled her eyes. Annoyed that the pods felt the need to refer to White by her previous role. Though she was technically in charge of the salvage and research operation on the alien vessel that was a far cry from being Commander of all YoRHa units. Looking at her again A2 did smirk a bit at the sight though. "She really shouldn't wear such a long dress while doing that. It's bad enough with her hair so long but with that as well she looks ridiculous."

She'd have to remember to send a picture of this test to Anemone later. She'd probably get a laugh out of it too.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

A2 turned to see 2B standing behind her at the entrance to the building. She spared a brief glance at her old commander defying gravity and dignity before walking up to A2.

"We need to perform our inspection."

"Right, it's about time for that again." A2 patted her pod on the top as she turned back towards the researcher and White. "Looks like we're cutting this short then. We'll have to finish up tomorrow."

"Oh! But tomorrow is New Dawn. I don’t think we’ll be able to finish the experiment then," the researcher said as he stepped down from their test platform. While A2 and 2B had already began walking back towards the flight units. Leaving White frowning behind them as she realized her report on the alien material was going to be delayed two days.

"Right... you're little holiday 2B,” A2 said, a slight grin on her face as she knew 2B was still embarrassed by the holiday’s growing popularity.

"I-I never meant for that to happen A2!"

"Really? You told the story of waking up in a world free of the machines enough times, you never noticed how everyone was hanging onto your every word?"

"That's not the point! It wasn't about being poetic or anything. When I reactivated my visual sensors were misaligned. Everything was far too bright and since I didn't understand how I could be alive at first I... you know, it doesn't matter."

"You're right. It doesn't matter since we’re all stuck with a big dumb celebration on the day you woke up. Did you hear?” A2 asked, smiling as she did so. “They’re now starting to honor it in other settlements too.”

"This would never have happened if you had reactivated first."

A2 shook her head as they walked done the dirt road to the flight unit hanger. "How is that my fault? We were all just has dead at the end. You for the longest time actually."

"A2..."

"Sorry. I know I've said it before but," she frowned at the unpleasant memory, "I still wish things could have been better at the end."

"We did what we had to do. And it all worked out for the best." 2B said as she stepped forward. Suddenly stopping as she felt A2's hand on her shoulder. "What is it?"

"2B... I've been putting this off for a long time... but why do you act the way you do around the Commander?"

She froze, her eyes wide as a cascade of emotions played across her face. Fear became anger and she turned to face A2. "I wouldn't expect you of all people to defend her."

"Well yeah. I think she's a smug egotistical pile of misaligned circuits. I still don't know why you were so insistent we reactivate her when we recovered her along with backups for the latest YoRHa generation. But that's my opinion on her. I didn't think you felt the same way."

"I didn't... but after you told me what you found out in the tower. I... I'm not sure how to feel about her."

"She didn't know about all that 2B."

"She knew enough. She knew that everything was pointless. That we weren't fighting to save humanity since humanity was already dead. That I was..."

2B choked up for a moment. Before clenching her fists and walking far quicker towards the flight units. A2 quickening her own pace to match.

"You don't need to say anymore. I... I don't understand how you feel about that. It's not like anything I ever had to do," A2 said. "Sure I terminated a lot of hunter units but it's not like a cared about them. And I knew they'd just be reactivated back at the Bunker. Hopefully a little wiser and less keen to pick a fight with me."

"Did that actually work out?"

"Not really. I think I killed one girl seven times before she stopped confirming sightings of me. Though I might have been mistaken. A lot of you E types look kind of similar."

2B glared at A2 who only smiled in return. "That's great. You should really look into providing counseling services. I'm sure it would help with morale."

"Not really my interest 2B. Though as communication and travel gets easier they probably won’t need messengers soon," she said as they finally came to the hanger. Their pods taking their place in the flight units shortly before they boarded as well. "You want to race?"

"Not particularly. I should be careful not to damage this flight unit since it's going to be used tomorrow."

As A2 took off her voice came through the communication channel. "That's a pretty good excuse so you don't have to lose."

A moment later 2B's flight unit took off as well and began accelerating to match A2's.

***

White sat in a chair not far from the demonstration of large scale artificial gravity. Eyes closed as she edited her itinerary for the next few days. New Dawn was a wash as far as meaningful work since so many had plans.

It annoyed her that 2B had inadvertently thrown off her work schedule like that, by recalling the messenger who would physically relay the information about the research on the alien craft. That and the frivolous holiday she’d accidentally created.

“It’s a shame we can’t just send this data by wireless. But as this technology remains completely unseen among the machine life forms we can’t risk them picking it out of an unsecured transmission if they left anything active hidden on or near Earth.”

While she continued to think over their security issues someone had carefully snuck up behind her. Giving her chair a light kick that combined with the break in focus as she broke away from her internal calendar had her jumping forward with a shriek of surprise.

“You sure kept me waiting. You forgot I sent a message telling you I was coming in today?”

White glared at the eye patch wearing android behind her. “Jackass… no I didn’t forget about you.”

“Well I think you did, jerk. Its 1530 already. I gave you a bit of leeway since whatever dumb thing you’re working on in here was running long.”

“It’s not dumb I- never mind,” White said as she composed herself. While Jackass was a very old friend of hers there was no denying that the other android was abrasive. Hardly surprising given the name she’d decided to give herself. “What is it you wanted to show me? You made it sound rather important in the message.”

“Oh it is. It’s something else alright,” she said, her grin exceedingly enthusiastic. Holding out her right hand there was a flicker of light in her palm. That gradually built into frame of a phantasmal object before seeming to solidify into a small black cube. “See? We match now.”

“H-how? How did you install a YoRHa black box?” White asked, utterly shocked at what her friend had done to herself. “Why even? You of all people know how those were made!”

“Yeah? And so what? So we stole some tech from those machine jerks that invaded our planet? Big deal, it's a great upgrade and lots of folks have been asking me if there was a way to be more like those ‘heroic YoRHa that finally broke the war.’ So I worked on it while you were playing with alien rocks.”

“Those rocks could revolutionize space travel.”

“And I’m doing my part to help all androids too. Though I will admit it was a bit of a trick just figuring out how to install this thing,” she said. Dismissing the conjured representation of the actual internal upgrade. “But I nailed it down eventually. Got quite a few early adopters already lined up now that it works.”

“You still haven’t told me why you’re doing this.”

“Oh. Right.” Jackass leaned in, her smile showing teeth as she said one word. “Revenge.”

“What?”

“Think about it. Whoever set up YoRHa to be destroyed wanted to bury the whole project. Data backups and all. Maybe they thought those models of androids didn’t deserve to exist if we ever won. Or maybe it was something else. Either way I figure one way to draw them out might be to spread the developments from YoRHa as far and wide as possible. If someone was willing to kill you and everyone else on the Bunker to hide them they might make a second go at it. If not I still screwed up their plans.”

“That’s crazy. That’s insane and very, very dangerous.”

“Well I don’t really care too much what you think about danger. You’re the one that took a supposedly safe post in space and it got your ass blown to pieces and saved by a goddamned miracle. And even if I can’t find the ones responsible for all this, I’m making sure they don’t get what they want. And you can help me with that.”

“How do you propose I do that?”

“Easy. I plan to publish my procedure. Get it up on every public network so any repair doc can do it themselves with enough training. I just need you to vouch for the legitimacy of the procedure. Since you’re sort of the test case of a standard android gaining a black box.”

White turned away from her old friend and walked towards a nearby work bench. Struggling to decide what she would say. On one hand she did share no small animosity for what had happened at the end of the war. She had ended up just as much a pawn of some unknown actor as the entire YoRHa force itself. And she may have survived that, but it was only by becoming tainted with the same piece of hybrid technology.

Though she didn’t feel different. Had there ever been any real differences from fully human designed androids and the YoRHa models? Enough to justify the cruelty she had unwittingly taken part in? Acting as just another cog in the latest purposely sabotaged force to be sent against the machine life forms.

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do about including your findings in the reports that we send out. Though you’re going to have to write them up so they can make sense of it. I’m not editing it for you.”

***
It hadn't really been a race. At least not a real one taking advantage of the uniquely impressive mobility that flight units provided. And would most likely be displayed tomorrow during the celebration in order to show off some of the skills that the YoRHa forces found little use for at the moment.

Still they had gone faster than necessary and arrived in a little over ten minutes.

Setting down next to the squat concrete building they both disembarked from their flight units and approached the large blast doors. A pair of automatic turrets aimed towards them for a moment before the disarm code given by their pods was received. The red lights under them turned green and the doors slowly opened.

Letting them enter into the much colder insides of the containment site.

"Let's get this done already. Pod 153, please check the sensors for anomalies."

*Affirmative. It should also be noted that current system used here could be replaced with a more comprehensive communications system.*

"You're advice is acknowledged and will probably be ignored. There are a lot more important projects then making sure we have the best bandwidth for eggwatch."

"That's not the name A2," 2B said. Shaking her head she continued, "It's supposed to be Wiglaf."

"And it's a bunch of cameras looking at an egg. Eggwatch."

*That 2B is correct. The Community Council accepted that name after considering historical precedents for research projects of unknown alien entities.*

"Of course you'd take her side. And shouldn't you be checking the eggs internals to make sure it isn't going to birth an android eating monster anytime soon?"

"You sound frustrated A2."

"Well I didn't think that we would get stuck as the ones checking in on this thing all the time when we decided not to destroy it. I might have changed my mind if I'd known that."

"A2..."

"I know. I know 2B. This is a grave responsibility and all that. Still I don't understand why we have to be the ones that come in to check on this thing every six weeks. This really isn't a hard job to do."

"But it has to be someone that can be trusted not to interfere with the cryogenic suspension. A lot of the other settlements were alarmed when we told them about the alien craft. So only a few have clearance to come in here. Which happens to include us since most of the technicians on that list have better things to do with repairs or salvage operations.”

Looking over the monitors and sensors, not a one of which showed or recorded anything out of the ordinary, 2A nodded. Before stepping forward and lightly touching the surface of the containment chamber, feeling the temperature controlled freeze that kept the still living organism inert. "I know. It doesn't make this any less boring."

Chapter Text

----: Request by YoRHa Model A No. 2 attempt 25.

----: Searching all main databases… no results.

----: Searching registry listings for secondary drives… no results.

----: Attempting data recovery… unable to find registry addresses.

----: All data for YoRHa Model A and Model G Types do not appear to be in the recovered archives.

----: Hypothesis: Data was removed from servers and later deleted after administrator approval.

----: Make note to render an apology for failure and offer condolences.

----: I... feel guilty for failing in this task.

- Archive of requested data recovery attempts by Pod 042.

May 10, 12020.

"This year’s New Dawn celebration has a little something extra if you were willing to go out to the Daedulus Technology Institute. The first payload of materials for the reconstruction of an orbital defense platform since the destruction of the Bunker seventy-five years ago will be launched. The new design for the Heimdall Class Watchtower Platform has been drastically reworked in light of both the new technological developments from the alien vessel and to defend against similar incursions in the future. Finalized and approved for construction last year resources allocated for it are now being used."

The projected display shifted to show the large rocket that had carried the first cargo of materials into orbit. White saw herself pictured along with a number of the other surviving YoRHa units. A fair number wore their original uniforms while a slightly larger group had on the lighter blue on black uniforms that had become standard following Community's official founding. But the similar features even between types was unmistakable.

"I still can't believe so many had managed to escape over the years… no thanks to me though," White thought. A point of both shame and pride. If she had been worse at her job more of them would have survived. Quite a few had come out of hiding once they were certain that the war really was over and that the radio chatter wasn't an elaborate trick by YoRHa or the supposed Human Council to get them to reveal themselves. There'd been a number of tearful reunions from various units who had been close enough in activation to have met each other. But surprisingly few had argued against her plans to reconstruct an orbital defense platform.

In fact many of them had even volunteered to join with the new program. Which had drawn approval from nearly the entire world when the story of the alien craft was told.

"The operation will begin construction this summer with five more launches scheduled over the proceeding weeks. The timetable for completion should see operational status achieved in twenty years assuming no major complications. Still more volunteers are always needed. If you would like to assist please speak to a Community Council liaison or submit your personal info at a network hub or a service Pod. This has been your System News Update, signing off."

With the news broadcast finished the screen flickered before going to standby mode. A few windows displaying messages and recently played archived footage as well as a timer counting down to the next broadcast. That and an advertisement for some nature program that had become popular. Though White didn't see the appeal of watching an android talk about how amazing every random animal they found was as they trekked from one end of the continent to the other on foot. The only time she'd watched it she had suffered through an hour of barking sea lions and poor sound balancing.

She could also watch a live recording of the fireworks display they'd started putting on, but having been there in person she didn't see the point.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. "Who would be visiting me at this hour? All my subordinates are out there celebrating New Dawn."

She opened the door to find Anemone standing there. Having foregone the nicer outfit she wore during ceremonial events like New Dawn to dress in what was more casual outfit. It looked like she'd just had her old clothes from the Resistance days cleaned and tailored for the most part.

"Councilor Anemone. What are you doing here?"

"I guessed you'd be alone in your rooms and decided to visit. I mean it's bad enough you spend New Dawn alone. This year you've got something else to celebrate."

"Well come in then," White said. Stepping back as Anemone entered. "Though I don't really see the point of this. I'm not really the best of company."

"Don't worry about that. I brought this to help," Anemone said as she handed over a positively ancient bottle.

"Okay? And this is supposed to help how?"

"Traditionally you drink it. Though I've also been told that you're supposed to smash it against ships too. I don't really understand the second use."

"Wait... drink it? Is that safe?"

"I've heard from multiple sources that it won't cause any permanent damage."

White worked the synthetic rubber cork out from the top and sniffed the contents. Reeling back in response. "It smells like- wait is this liquor?"

"Yes?"

"Where did you even get this?"

"A friend that does ruin diving found it. Supposedly its better the older it is and this is about as old as it gets."

"You expect me to drink ten thousand year old liquor with you?"

"It's not quite that old. She said she found it in one of the abandoned replicant cities. So probably closer to eight thousand years or so."

White's expression wavered from disgust to disbelief before settling on a blank look that carried over quite well into her tone of voice. "I absolutely refuse. I'm not going to chance damaging my internals simply because you want to mimic some human tradition. I'm sure you could find someone else who'd do this with you. Maybe A2 would feel adventurous enough for something like this."

"Where do you think I got it from," Anemone said with a laugh.

***

The night sky blossomed with fire.

Rocketing streaks rising high above the ruins before bursting into multi-color explosions that slowly faded away. Illuminating the whole sky as a hundred quickly dwindling pinpricks of light. The night sky had been clear and the stars as bright as ever. But for now it was their light that took center stage in the heavens.

2B didn't know if she really liked this part that much. As annoying as she still found the concept that a repeated phrase she had used when trying to explain what exactly had happened at the end of the war had been turned into the name for a global celebration, she did enjoy it despite that. More the quiet parts earlier where friends would gather to remember the joy they had felt when they had learned of the war was over, to remember those of who had not lived to see it. It had even become habitual for the mass gatherings to see distant members of the same model type or generation gather up and share about how their lives had come to be.

There had been a flight unit demonstration earlier that A2 had taken part in. She seemed to restlessly move from one occupation to another over the years. She had taken up survey and salvage work for the moment though with the reconstruction of a new Bunker she might be asked to provide training like 2B as well.

Both for volunteers and maybe even others...

There were plans under proposal to begin the activation of new androids in far larger numbers. Not reactivating those they found and whose black boxes were in good condition or who had intact personality files saved in the server's seemingly endless archives. But truly new individuals that would come into being never having known the war or the false struggle to bring back humanity.

It was shocking to her that they thought that way. That even she didn't feel any great sense of repulsion at abandoning their purpose so completely. Though perhaps she could understand it.

"YoRHa was part of maintaining the masquerade for so long the pain of humanity's extinction no longer hurt as much. All anyone really focused on was the endless war. And when it ended we were all so happy... that the truth about mankind came as well made it less painful."

"2B... are you okay?"

"Oh! Sorry Nines. I was just thinking." 2B looked away wiping at her face with her sleeve. Her eyes had started to water. She shouldn't be feeling sad and melancholy tonight. "It's just hard to believe that it’s been over seventy years already."

"Yeah. The time just seems to fly by now that we aren't constantly in danger. I mean it felt like only a week ago that we demolished those buildings that had become unstable from too much material being salvaged from them," 9S said. Pointing to a large open space where several destroyed sky scrapers had once stood. Now partially reclaimed by trees and more of the buildings the androids had built to live and work in.

And shop in too. The lack of war had left a number of androids without much need of whatever their original function might have been. Which had lead to 9S taking her shopping. Today hadn’t been the first time, but it had probably been the closest to those shopping centers from the old world. They’d tried a cherry flavored drink, 2B had got a flower wreath necklace, and underneath that wore a simple shirt that 9S had saw being offered. 12020 with the words “New Dawn” underneath the year while an attempt had been made to illustrate a symbolic rising sun behind them. 2B thought it rather nice and had been surprised that 9S was so focused on getting her one.

She’d honestly forgotten the conversation they’d had about such things so long ago.

"We probably won’t be knocking too many more buildings over for a while. They're declaring ruins to be protected zones from destructive salvage operations. And if those probes their sending out find more mass transitioning material we'll probably start getting metals from extraterrestrial mining."

"It could definitely end up more efficient then trying to salvage everything we need. Rare earth metals have been in particular short supply with all the satellites we've been putting into orbit," 9S said. Looking to his side where 2B sat, he cautiously placed his hand over hers. "2B I was wondering why you didn't go to the launch site today? They had a large number YoRHa units there to tour the facilities and the rockets."

"I... I had other things I needed to do."

"2B I-"

"I know what you're going to say Nines. That I need to talk about it. Talk to her about it," 2B said, the words coming out quickly as her hands clenched tightly on the cloth on which they sat. "That I should just air my grievances and listen to her explanation or her excuses or whatever prepared speech she's given to every other YoRHa unit that demanded to know why! But..."

9S didn't say anything. Just holding her hand till the tension began to depart and she let go slowly.

"I'm not ready yet."

***

"And so she walks onto her post wearing... I dunno, it was like some horrible pink and yellow thing with feathers and a plastic beak."

"Really?"

"Yes. It was supposed to remind you of a bird, but in like... a sexy way? And she'd been so busy making her costume that she hadn't realized she'd destroyed all her uniforms while doing so until the signal for her shift came in. And then she panicked and just put it on."

"I can't believe it," Anemone said, shaking her head as she took another drink. "So what did you do?"

"Punished them. Her and her associate. For misuse of YoRHa materials, fraternization within ranks, improper dress," White counted down the felonious actions her Operator had taken. "Oh! And emotional control failure. Since she started crying when I yelled at her."

"Oh that's crazy! Did that happen often?"

"Well not anything like that again. The two of them were cleaning floors and maintenance shafts for months. Though I'm pretty sure they made another one. Hopefully less garish. I had the original costume destroyed and confiscated all the reading materials that inspired it for destruction later."

"You did?"

"Well I scanned them first, obviously," White said. "I mean it was a human cultural work. But I placed a security pass on it when I uploaded it to the server and it was so long ago I don't remember the file address. It isn't a great loss. They'd cobbled their ideas together from a dress catalog and some sort of seasonal costume holiday."

"Heh... I'm surprised fraternization was a crime actually. Most of the YoRHa units I knew never seemed worried about it."

"It always was, and was more stringently enforced early on. But looking back on the increasing rate of emotional development in new models it eventually became a losing battle and not really worth enforcing unless it interfered with the mission objectives. I had more trouble with contraband material from Earth. The number of attempted green houses I had to space..."

"Too bad. That sounds nice actually."

"It was a major problem actually. We had to maintain a very stringent oxygen carbon dioxide mix in space. Our synthetic blood only requires so much for optimum health and self-repair. Plants would throw the balance off and could also damage the air filters if they released pollen," White explained. "But the new Bunker is going to have a small garden in an observation room. Several of the designers were quite insistent on that fact. They had even picked out the flower they wanted to have growing there before their addition got approved."

"Let me guess... lunar tears?"

"How'd you know?"

"They're very popular but also hard to grow. I'm sure they'd want to use them as a mark of pride in how good at horticulture they are." Anemone smiled, happy that she'd guessed right before saying, "I even saw some being handed out as gifts on New Dawn. Probably because 2B started wearing one around the time the war ended."

"She did? I didn't know that..."

"Yeah," Anemone said, her expression sobering as she thought back to those days. Before looking straight at White and asking, "Have you ever spoken to her about what happened? What really happened back then?"

"... No. I think she's been avoiding me," she said. Sighing as she looked up at the ceiling. "And I've been avoiding her in turn."

"You can't keep avoiding your issues forever."

"I know Anemone. I know."

***

“And another year goes by,” A2 thought. Seated by herself against her personal flight unit in remote military outpost. Abandoned since long before the end of the 14th Machine War it had ended up being the place she would go off to when she needed to be alone. There wasn’t even a network terminal active in the entire complex so she could just close her eyes and listen to the silence that encompassed every frequency.

“Interesting… I did not know that fireworks could be so pretty,” Pascal said from where he stood nearby. Pod 153 serving as an impromptu screen displaying the celebration.

Most of the time anyway it was silent.

She didn’t really know why she had hidden the amnesiac machine away. It was part guilt certainly. But also a sense of responsibility. If she’d just giving him a quick death…

“But I couldn’t. I couldn’t kill him.”

A2 shook her head and looked away from Pascal. Seeing the rows of books and knickknacks that she had slowly brought in to keep Pascal occupied. Until things changed.

Though she had no idea when that would be. Sure most of the local androids wouldn’t mind too much. Well the ones that hadn’t been part of YoRHa, but if 2B, 9S, and herself and all vouched for Pascal it could have been enough. The problem was that they weren’t just one small population center anymore. North America, Europe, and central Asia all had numerous functional settlements and resistance armies turned governments. And none of them would take kindly to keeping a machine life form around. Even one like Pascal.

“If only those assholes had taken him with them.”

But then again they’d willingly destroyed everything Pascal had built just to strike at YoRHa in their pointless game of war. Machines that for all their vaunted understanding of humanity hadn’t inspired a spark of the compassion she felt for the one nearby. She might be alright with the machines getting their knowledge of mankind or whatever and leaving, but that didn’t mean she had stopped hating them for all the pain they had been part of.

It was hard to pick which group she despised more. The androids that had made YoRHa, and the many previous armed units before hand to fail. Or the machines that had apparently known that all along and worked with them to maintain a state of perpetual war. All so the androids could have a “purpose” while the machines got to study mankind through their creations.

She supposed it didn’t matter anymore. The machines were gone, YoRHa had been destroyed even as its members were saved by an intervention from their AI support units that A2 still didn’t understand. And the lie of humanity’s existence, of still living government of their creators on the lunar surface had been silenced.

Along with the radio transmissions, when they’d sent up some technicians to physically copy the server contents and turn off the broadcasts decades ago.

They were all that was left now. Androids resurrecting a civilization that they had only been meant to shepherd in absence of its true owners for a time. Handing back when their work was done.

Now that work would never end. Could never end. What were the building cities and space stations for? What would they tell new androids their purpose and reason for existence was?

Through the cracked roof above slivers of moonlight fell down onto her face.

There would be no answer from above.


Codex:

Android Space Defense Installations

Heimdall Watchtower

Android’s first space station and fortified defense platform following the end of the events known as the 14th Machine War. This 2 km in diameter structure of rotating sections is also the first major construction by their species to incorporate Element Zero into its design, if only the weapon systems and artificial gravity for a few specific locations.

At the time of initial operation it could lodge up to 1500 troops as well as 10 squadrons of combat equipped flight units. Rail gun emplacements were the primary use of element zero while the main power supply was three fusion reactors. In addition the station was equipped with an exotic matter particle cannon.

Later upgrades during its operation increased the size of the hanger bays to accommodate commercial transport vehicles and the first generation manned interplanetary exploration craft. It was also the site of the official signing and acceptance of the desperate post-war nations of Earth into the organization that would later be known as the Alliance of Networked Systems. Though to this day the station is under control by the main military force thereof, known as YoRHa.

Chapter Text

April 17, 12059.

“Survey team to the Argyre Planitia outpost. Nothing new to report. No seismic activity found since the initial anomalous tremors.”

*Affirmative. Message relayed. This quadrant is now considered fully searched. Moving onto next scheduled search area.*

Silva trudged back to the buggy. Boots kicking up clouds of red sand with each footfall as he carried the scanning equipment. The visor down on his helmet to keep the harsh glare of the sun from being too distracting. Though he suspected that six hours of it might have been enough to start causing damages even to an android.

“Thankfully they give us fully enclosed suits for extraterrestrial recon.” Sure, technically he’d be fine without air for hours before any issues came up. And actual functionality could be maintained indefinitely… in theory. No android had ever had the misfortune of tumbling through space for a century or two to put that to the test. Either way lunar or Martian dust would play hell on sensitive electronics or an androids own body if they inhaled it. So a simple enclosed suit was used. Pressurized nonetheless around his head so he could speak without relying on internal coms in case they became damaged, were of insufficient strength, or there was unexpected interference.

The utter catastrophe that had been the team exercises in zero-g at Heimdall had been proof of that. At least he hadn’t been the only one to think they could save time or gain in maneuverability by not donning a suit beforehand. Only for their instructor to then evacuate the atmosphere before jamming coms.

“To show you what a worst case scenario could be,” she’d said.

Thirty minutes of trying to read lips while flashing red warning lights went off until the simulated reactor failure ‘killed’ them all hadn’t been his finest hour as a technician.

“But she’d been right. We hadn’t even considered that we might also have to shut off communications and rely on helmet-to-helmet communication if there had been a virus outbreak either.” There was a reason that YoRHa veterans like A2 ran them through scenarios like that. He’d never have thought of how their strengths could be made into weaknesses through nothing more than a conspiracy of fate, let alone the directed attack by an enemy that understood them.

*Query: You appear to be recollecting something important. Does it have something to do with our current objective?*

“Ah… no Pod 181. I was just thinking about the past.”

*Affirmative. Note that we are approaching the next scanning location in 3.6 km.*

Pod 181 was even younger than him. And it showed. It didn’t really have the same personality of the older ones. Yet anyway.

The Pod had mentioned that it had been receiving lessons to better assist it in aiding the androids it was attached. Silva had no idea what it was that the pods would teach each other truthfully. They shouldn’t have the issues androids did with having to practice things in order to master them. He’d always thought that all they did was download new information and that was that.

Why bother with something inefficient when you were an AI with dozens to hundreds of platforms to act as bodies?

*Alert. We are at the next survey location. Approximately 300 meters from Deseado Crater.*

“Acknowledged. Let’s get this over with so we can get the other ten done and get back before night comes. I don’t want to be out in the cold.”

*Query. The cold will not diminish your effectiveness. Why then is it important to avoid it?*

“Because it won’t feel good to be freezing.”

*Apology. I have been informed that I need to take into consideration the feelings of the androids I am assigned to in order to improve my effectiveness.*

“I… that’s not-never mind,” he said. Stopping the vehicle and pulling out the heavy scanning equipment before placing it on the ground. “Calibrate system in 3, 2, 1.”

*Calibrating.*

“Alright… looks good. Begin ultra high frequency imaging. Hopefully we can find some surface level signs of the faults that might be responsible for those tremors.”

*Alert! There is an unusual amount of electromagnetic radiation in this area. It has been growing since we stopped and is now five times above expected background.*

“Wait, what? But that- woah!”

Silva stepped back, the ground shaking beneath his feet. The tremor subsided soon, leaving him confused by how strong it had felt. Almost like it had been directly beneath his feet.

“What was that?”

*A tremor Technician Class Silva. Centered below our current position.*

“Wait? Centered below us? Directly below us?”

*Affirmative. Also the imaging has been completed and-*

“And what? Pod 181? What was in the image?”

*Apology. I believe I am experiencing an emotional response. It is… interesting. Surprise.*

“Surprise at what?” Silva asked again. His distress giving way to irritation.

*An unknown artificial structure with an internal volume of at least 300 million cubic meters. Material composition is highly anomalous.*

He spent a rather long amount of time looking down at the ground letting the magnitude of what was beneath him sink in. “C-contact command. Send a priority alert. And prepare for another scan. Narrower. We need to get an idea on the shape below us.”

***

“Damn does my back hurt,” A2 said as she stood up and stretched. Lightly hopping to get a sense of the gravity of the red planet. “I can’t believe we just spent the last four months sitting doing nothing.”

“It was the fastest way to get to Mars A2. We’re lucky it was as quick as it was. A year later and it would have taken three times as long even with a larger ship. Besides I had plenty of work. Even just the initial data recovered from the alien cache is fascinating. It’s… like nothing else we’ve ever encountered.”

“And we couldn’t have just transferred our consciousnesses why exactly?”

“A2… you know that almost no one does that anymore right? Most androids are really touchy about even being reactivated a lot of the time if it means replacing most of their body instead of just repairs. Worried about being the same ‘person’ and all. It’s not hard to understand. If you didn’t live through YoRHa back during the war then the idea of surviving your death like that would be completely alien.”

“Great… and we have to suffer because they’re a bunch of dumb-asses.”

“Well that and the Martian survey outpost doesn’t have the equipment to assemble any sort of android body let alone a high end YoRHa type,” 9S said as he picked up some of the equipment they’d brought and loaded it onto a cart nearby. “And I personally really don’t feel comfortable trying to send my consciousness three hundred million kilometers. Honestly, I’m not sure we can with signal degradation being what it is.”

“Great…at least you had alien computer code to read. Must be so fascinating,” A2 said, rolling her eyes. “I wish 2B had been sent instead. She’d at least pretend to find that interesting.”

“Well mass was an extreme priority. The fastest ship available could really only safely fit one or two plus our equipment. And unlike 2B you have a sensitive materials salvage license.”

“I can’t believe they make you get a license for that nowadays. And if I’d known it would get me sent to Mars for two years I’d never have gotten it.”

“It’s not two years… it will probably just take that long to get back. They still haven’t found away to synthesize the matter transitioning material. And the supposed FTL effect is still unproven for the moment. If all goes well we’ll have the archives copied and everything set up for the next team to arrive in at most eight months and can already be on our way back before they arrive.”

“Hopefully,” 9S thought. A salvage operation… a xeno-archeological dig was almost completely unprecedented. The machine life forms had borrowed so much from android technology and vice versa by the end that nothing truly novel was found among their remains after the war. Though they had apparently been holding back if his trip through the alien ark’s launch tower had been representative of what they were fully capable of.

The alien vessel from the next contact event had been so damaged that data retrieval had failed to gather anything of note. Though he personally suspected that either in their method of communication or mindset the Second Arrival beings were so different from what they were used to that even if they had had a pristine ship to examine they might have failed to understand it.

Not so with this find.

Even the extremely limited findings already submitted were incredibly simple to understand. He could tell how the code of the alien computer language worked. Once they began to copy and analyze the actual contents of that archive there was a very good chance they would actually be able to translate what they found.

The sense of discovery was almost enough to overcome the loneliness he felt. If he sent a message to 2B at this exact instant she wouldn’t receive it for almost four minutes.

That light speed delay was only going to get worse the longer it took to finish their work. At the end of their scheduled shift it would be over nine minutes.

Nine minutes apart in time and still who knew how many years short of the FTL com currently being tested back at the Daedulus Institute.

This was going to be miserable.

***

May 10, 12059

“Hey 2B, it’s good to talk to you. Things have been going pretty well here. A2 has been working with the surveyor that located the site to clear the material without damaging anything. Which is pretty important. Since they finally located the source of the tremors.”

“There’s a reactor here. One using the mass transitioning material. It’s… amazing honestly. Well beyond even our best fusion designs. But it’s unstable so I’ve had to divide my attention from the archive to that to make sure it doesn’t damage anything. It’s not going to explode or anything, but a failure could damage the installation and the alien archive I’m working with.”

“Luckily the archive contains information on the reactor. But I still end up spending half my day trying patch jobs on that instead of data analysis and recording. It’s delaying the translation efforts.”

“But don’t worry… I’m still on schedule to complete this. Still, this is going to be the first New Dawn we weren’t together.” 9S paused for a moment, thinking over his next words. He’d prepared everything already but the next part was hard to say at the moment. “The first time we weren’t together on the day we awoke in a world without war.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be there with you. I really miss you. I guess that’s the price of being considered an expert at alien programs and network systems. Hopefully whoever gets stuck with the long term analysis of this can take that position away from me.”

9S sat back from Pod 153’s camera. It would be at least four minutes before 2B finished hearing his message and responded with her own.

It made things more than a little difficult he found.

He stared at the live display, disconnected in time as it was. Guessing by her expression, whether she frowned or smiled, when she showed surprise and concern, as to where she was in his message. The moments where she opened her mouth, ready to speak and then closed it again as the gulf of space between them silenced her response before she could even speak it.

Even when the four minutes had elapsed 2B didn’t speak. Instead she closed her eyes, most likely to concentrate on writing or editing the response she had made. Though every few moments she would open them again, almost like she had been afraid that 9S might have vanished while she wasn’t looking.

“That’s good to hear Nines. I’ve been keeping busy as well. Or at least trying to I guess? There’s been issues with left over machine lifeforms in Siberia. They must have either been disconnected or somehow separated from the primary machine network a long time ago. We didn’t realize they were there until we started repairing the pipelines and systems in that area. They’ve basically nested right on top of the natural gas reserves we want to use.”

“Like a pit full of fire breathing mechanical vipers. It’s giving the new recruits a real combat situation. But don’t worry,” 2B said, holding up a hand as if she were at all likely to be interrupted at this point. “They’re really not a threat. They must have broke off back in… Machine War 9? Maybe even earlier. They’ve still developed more since then, but without the network directing them and their evolution they were pretty easy to get rid of.”

“I’m glad A2 is with you out there. I know I shouldn’t worry, especially now that you’ve cleared most of the installation and found nothing hostile or even capable of hostility. But even after the initial reports came through saying that it had no sign of machine lifeforms, or even defenses that could be controlled by an AI I was still worried. I just hope that the worst you have to deal with is keeping that place running and not some purposeful sabotage by whoever built it.”

“Oh! You missed something neat today though. I got to watch Romeo and Juliet. The real one. There was a group who decided to put on the play as part of a traveling show. They say it’s better to see it live instead of just making a recording or streaming to all the networks. Anyway, I’m not so sure about it now. I wasn’t expecting the ending. I knew it was a tragedy going in…”

“Still it was well done. They said they planned to do Macbeth next. Though I guess you’ll miss that too?”

“Nines… I really miss you. I wish I could be there, but I don’t have a skill set that makes sense given the cost of interplanetary travel. It’s so hard coming home knowing you won’t be there. That’s why I keep trying to find jobs as far away as possible.”

“Just… be careful out there? Even if there’s nothing dangerous in the alien outpost, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t in the archive.”

“I know. I know, that’s silly. You’re far better at security and anti-virus systems than I’ll ever be. Still, please stay safe?”
***
9S leaned back, his eyes closed and a slight numbing pain that was a clear sign that his repeated late shifts were catching up with him.

A2 was somewhere deeper in the alien compound organizing another dig. Into yet another recently discovered chamber. As much as his work was obviously the more important he had begun to wish he was doing her job. It would probably be less boring.

Okay that wasn’t right.

It wasn’t boring.

It just wasn’t challenging.

Not in the way he expected and wanted.

The alien data archive was made to be deciphered. There was almost no meaningful security keeping him out of it or encryption on the contents. Or if there was it must be hidden within the archive itself or too advanced for him to even notice its presence.

Which was the other issue.

The alien archive was massive. Massive might be an understatement even. The Lunar server was the backup of nearly everything the androids had either been entrusted with or found on their own. And this was even larger.

The sheer enormity of it intimidated him. The amount of it that turned out to be technical manuals or diagrams for devices that he didn’t understand using laws of physics they hadn’t even discovered yet made him feel like an idiot. And the truly vast amount of still un-translated material which clearly was not junk code taunted him constantly with his failure to parse meaning from it even with it right in front of his face.

At the moment their plans to simply copy it back and send it to Earth for further analysis were impossible. There was too much of it and the means by which they could download it so slow that even if they had a data drive that could contain it the transfer could take years to complete. Tenfold that to check for errors.

The team sent to relieve him had his sympathies. They’d be here for decades. At least.

*Are you feeling alright unit 9S?*

“Yeah. Sorry if I’m worrying you Pod 153. I’m just frustrated. It’s been weeks and all I’ve been able to do is copy technical schematics out of this thing. Which is fine… except I don’t know what they do and even if I did I wouldn’t know how they did it.”

*It’s not surprising. The technology of these aliens clearly supersedes both our own and the machine life forms.*

“That’s not it. Not the only thing. It’s just some of the things in here were thought to be impossible even now. We’d only hypothesized that the mass transitioning material could be used to make an FTL drive. But it’s clear in these archives that the method to do so wasn’t even that hard. We just missed it somehow,” 9S said. Wiping at his currently blank display screen to put the data he’d been trying to work with in VR up on it. “And look at this! This data chain is repeating at a set pattern and measuring units of distance. Planetary distances. Going back long enough… and you see there? The cycles? These aliens had this outpost operational for longer than all recorded history. Even after all we experienced we must be like… like infants just learning to crawl.”

*I comprehend your frustration. While my mind is not like that of an android’s for we were not made in the image of humanity we do understand what it is to be faced with what cannot be understood.*

“Yeah I guess you would?” 9S said as he stood up. Stretching and taking out his mobile data pad to see if 2B had responded to his last message yet. “I bet androids are pretty confusing for you.”

*No. I actually feel like I have come to understand androids rather well. The nature of the universe is far more perplexing.*

9S wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about that. And before he had time to collect his thoughts something far more important came up.

*Unit 9S. This pattern is based off repeating symbols not found elsewhere in the current data set. It is quite long.*

“Huh… oh yeah. That one. I think it’s a sample of some highly complex encryption code. Maybe one that’s designed to evolve with time as well?”

*Negative. Comparing it to archive samples… comparison complete. Report: this is genome.*

“What?”

*This is a genome. A data mapped encoding of the genetic structure of an organic life form. Further identification would-*

“Wait! But if that’s… how did I miss that?”

*My hypothesis is that you are tired and distracted because you miss unit 2B. But perhaps I do not understand androids?*

***

“This is a special news broadcast. We will be repeating it at this time for the next week and afterwards the contents of it and related data may be found at the network address listed below.”

The screen stayed on the address for almost a minute after the digitized female voice spoke before going black. Then returning to show the android that normally handled the global news broadcasts, only her composure was considerable less calm and ordered than normal.

“I-This is the global news broadcast to all cities and all networked systems. A recent breakthrough at the Mars site has just been released by the Daedulus Technology Institute and with a unanimous statement of importance from all councils and local leaders consulted before this release. And… this reporter was lucky enough to be present during the preliminary reveal.”

She paused briefly, leaning towards the camera as she did so.

“Trust me. You do not want to miss this.”

The screen changed, showing the assembled researchers of the institute and a display screen behind them which showed the Mars analysis team. The previous director White, now in command of System Defense Station 1 “Heimdall” stepped forward to begin the announcement.

“To those gathered here today and those watching elsewhere. And to everyone who in the future who will most assuredly watch this recording as well. Over the last few weeks we have had a breakthrough in deciphering the contents of the alien archive. Numerous technological devices that had been presenting issues to us for decades if not centuries are now at the cusp of being produced. The gravity control properties that the mass transition material provides will soon allow for propulsion systems of unrivaled efficiency and power.”

“They will even allow us to exceed the speed of light itself.”

There was a brief murmur of surprise from the crowd. Even now many had still considered such technology simply impossible. Or at the very least to likely be so prohibitively energy intensive that it could never see practical use.

“However that alone is not the reason for this announcement. While searching through the archives we found something else.”

White paused, not for effect but to make sure she had timed things right for what came next. With a nine minute light delay 9S had already begun talking before she had started her own speech.

“While going through historical records in the alien database we noticed that they had recorded genetic sequences. From Earth. Many that we do not have any comparison to given the extreme age of the alien outpost. But that was not true for all of them.”

“They had collected numerous genetic samples of early humans and related subspecies.”

Chapter Text

December 4, 12099

“Mass reduction by eighty-five percent and holding. Inertial compensators online and set for 60 gravities. Main fusion reactor primed and thrusters at the ready. Waiting for your order to accelerate commander.”

“Engage.”

The vibration felt barely noticeable as they moved away from Earth orbit at a rapidly increasing velocity. With the sizable engines and their mass reduced to only a fraction of what it should be normally the Sigurd would reach Mars in half a day instead of half a year. Once the last issues with the negative mass state were resolved they’d have an even greater reduction in travel times. Technically even this ship was only a few modifications away. But it had been decided that having an operational patrol ship was more important than waiting until they had ironed out the kinks in the next generation of engines.

Faster-than-light travel. Even after everything they’d seen and done there was still something fantastic about bridging the void between the stars. Currently White was acting as captain of the vessel as the highest ranking YoRHa officer on board though that was only a temporary measure while they shifted personal around to have a permanent system defense fleet at the ready.

“To think we have officers now.” That hadn’t been part of their organization back during the war. But the increasing membership as they became more of a peacekeeping and defensive force had required the change to be made. Luckily some of the resistance armies had stubbornly stuck to the same institutional organizing method for the last several thousand years. Long after it had stopped making any sense to talk about a ‘British’ air force or a ‘French’ army. But the androids who had phased out the humans so long ago had kept up appearances. And the ones that had replaced them had continued to do so until it just became the way of things.

As a result of this a number of the more recognized YoRHa soldiers who had returned to service had been promoted to actual leadership positions. Which had created its own issues until they had learned how to handle their new roles and deal with incoming recruits. Not all of which had been created to be combat models in the first place.

“So 2B, you’ve never been to Mars before right?” asked 11O.

“No. I haven’t. I should probably tour the dig site when we get there. Everyone says it’s better to see in person than just as images from the archeology report.”

“Oh yes! We should be there for a week before we head back. Plenty of time to finish our inspections on Phobos and head down to the surface. As long as the Commander approves.”

White looked over to where 11O was seated. What a silly question. “We’re only ferrying official inspectors and supplies. Once we drop them off there will be plenty of time for to see what the researchers on the surface are doing.”

Of course that wasn’t the only reason that asking for approval didn’t make sense. At least for 2B.

She wasn’t entirely within White’s command hierarchy anymore. Oh sure, technically 2B was listed as YoRHa unit but that was mostly for the sake of security permissions when she came up to Hiemdall station to provide specialty training.

In truth she’d never actually re-enlisted into YoRHa proper. Instead she’d remained as part of Community defense, a position that was likely going to be adjusted into a domestic security service once the various member states could come to a decision on the specifics. She’d probably be offered as high a position in it as she wanted in it when that happened.

Really all that meant was that if Captain 2B wanted to use a flight unit to go down to the surface once they were in orbit the technicality that White could forbid her didn’t really matter compared to the practicality that she really shouldn’t. Outside of an active war or certain limited conditions YoRHa had notably less authority then it used to.

At one point that would have frustrated White severely. Not anymore however. Instead she preferred the reduction of her authority to a more focused purpose. Pointing YoRHa outward as a weapon to defend Earth from aggressors was a far more noble purpose than it had had when it acted to perpetuate a lie through futile warfare.

***

The Phobos labs were neat, orderly, and cramped. The designs more utilitarian then even the Bunker and only slightly less drab. And while it was impressive that so large a complex had been assembled so quickly, White couldn’t help but feel mildly offended.

She’d been the one that had taken a salvage operation and gradually turned it into Earth’s largest research center. Proving that she actually did have the skills to lead and organize other androids for a common purpose and not just mislead them for decades without end. There really wasn’t any great need to perform experiments this far from Earth.

“And over here we have our genetics lab. Where we are busy attempting to pattern the data acquired in the alien archive onto functional cell lines. Progress has been quite slow there sadly.”

White nodded, feigning attention. While the initial fervor for the discovery of ancient human genes hadn’t entirely died down back on Earth they at least had the benefit of not regularly seeing the snail pace research in person. Their excuses were long, complex, and generally entirely beyond her understanding. She might have helped found the Deadulus Institute but that had been by virtue of her ability to get the sorts of eccentrics that had already taught themselves to be scientists during the Machine Wars to come together and function as a team, not because she herself had the technical skill or aptitude for in depth research.

“Still no chance of viable subjects?” White asked.

“Unfortunately no. The replicant technology was heavily damaged during the invasion and almost no androids remain from that time to fix it.”

“No androids with intact memories anyway,” White added mentally. Learning how old Devola and Popola really were had been something of a shock. More so to themselves when A2 had revealed what she had found in the machine lifeform’s own ‘library’ of Mankind. 9S had managed to remove the emotional trigger that had been active in them, but that did nothing to restore their memories or to undo several millennia of suffering its effects. Either way, the original caretakers of one of the replicant cities no longer remembered how the program itself had functioned. And great deal of that info was either missing from their networks or had been removed.

White didn’t know who she would prefer as the culprit. The machine lifeforms, stealing a precious piece of their history out of some petty desire to injure them even after using a vicious war against the androids to evolve their own intelligence into its current state? Or what one of her friends still believed.

That it had been the still living secret android cabal that had set up YoRHa and the fiction of humanity surviving on the moon.

The enemy that had escaped after gaining everything they desired or a further betrayal by those she had once considered comrades.

There was no easy answer there.

“Hey, mind if I borrow our tourist for a little while?”

Before shock could give way to anger White said, “Don’t worry about it. I know her.”

Jackass waved at the retreating android before smiling at her friend. “Well, fancy seeing you here.”

White didn’t return her friend’s smile. “What are you doing here? They declined your request to work here. You told me that yourself.”

“They declined several requests actually. But I pulled some strings and am technically here because of my expertise in mining and demolitions.”

“How, exactly? And moreover why?”

“Hey, I’ve never blown myself up. Just stupid jerks that don’t know how to follow instructions or count to ten correctly,” Jackass said. “As for why… I’m checking some things out. Investigating, like in the old days.”

“The old days were dangerous. Very dangerous.”

“I know what I’m doing White. Hell, I even got an old Pod I dug up watching my back. If I think I’m in trouble I’ll bail before it gets too late.”

White stared back at her friend. Expression serious as she thought over all the reasons this was a bad idea.

“Don’t worry about it White. I learned well from your example. I’m not getting blown up.”

“Of course you did,” White said, eyes narrowed at the joking reference to her own demise. “Just be careful. And try not to cause any trouble here.”

“You know me, I can be sneaky when I need to.”

***

It was two days later when it happened.

White had been managing her personal messages. Reading over both YoRHa internal reports and e-mails from the representatives back on Earth. Even with the light speed delay on communications no longer an issue there was still security to consider. Sensitive data and reports were still required to be handed off in person. She really didn’t find any of their requests important. While the reconstruction of Earth was in no way a negative thing it had brought certain things back into fashion.

Like politics.

She had just started preparing the response to the Britannia Minister when her entire world shifted. The seizing sensation of all network signals cutting off at once followed by a harsh red glare as alarms began to sound.

*WARNING! NETWORK VIRUS DETECTED. ALL WIRELESS SERVERS UNDER IMMEDIATE LOCK-DOWN. FIND AND LOCATE A NEURAL SYSTEMS DIAGNOSTICIAN FOR ANALYSIS IMMEDIATELY.*

White had been halfway down the hall by the time the message finished and started to repeat. Joined by other worried androids that headed to where the diagnosticians would be according to their drills. And thankfully they were there. Two medical technicians with service pods checked the crew one by one for logic virus infection. They had already done so for each other, thus the need for them to work in a pair, and the pods acted as a tertiary safeguard to make sure neither missed anything in addition to providing further diagnostic and repair tools.

“Commander White. Do I have permission to perform a diagnostic hack?”

“Yes.”

Her vision broke and pixilated as she felt OS and neural architecture come under diagnostic scrutiny. With no attempt to stop the intrusion on her part it went quickly. Aside from the brief dissociation as he performed an isolation check on her black box it finished so quickly she barely felt anything at all.

“You’re clean. Report to your post and await orders from the Commander Commander,” he said, and then his eyes widening as he realized who he had said that too. “Sorry. This has been-“

“It’s fine. Just finish checking the crew and then go over our networks and ship systems.”

Walking past the checkpoint White quickly reached the ships command center. And found her position already occupied.

“Check the reactor again. I don’t care if you think it’s fine, don’t take your eyes off it for a second,” 2B said loudly into the microphone for emergency communications. “Operator. Do you know where the intrusion came from yet?”

“No Co-Captain. Not yet.”

“Tell me immediately when you do.”

2B. Of course. She had lived through a system wide failure like this before. While White… hadn’t.

“Captain.”

“Commander,” 2B said, stepping to the side so White could take command. “There have been no reports of compromised systems yet. We don’t even know where the alarm came from.”

“I-I found it! At 2134:25 there was a transmission from the Phobos base that a contagious virus had compromised root OS functionality. Our own anti-virus systems detected anomalous code in the transmission and started an automatic network lock-down.”

“So it came from Phobos? Can we contact them?”

“Negative. Their network shut down as well.” Her fingers moved across the keyboard, bringing up another series of windows. “We could send a pod close enough to log into any isolated wireless networks still available. Radio, inactive pods, and other redundant systems that keep broadcasting even during a network alarm.”

“Do it. Have Pod 205 isolate itself from our own shipboard systems and activate a spare to fly close enough to see what we can get.”

“We don’t have time for that.”

White turned around to see 2B glaring at her. A fierce challenging determination in her eyes. “Protocol dictates-“

“Screw protocol! If we don’t get down there now it won’t matter. I’ll take our flight units and two teams of diagnostics specialists. As well as anti-android gear. Targeted EMP weapons will keep them from hurting us or themselves until the hackers can disable and administer logic virus vaccines.”

“And what if it’s already too late? We received notice of network contagion just a little while ago but that doesn’t mean theirs wasn’t compromised hours ago. Every android there could already be gone,” White said, desperately keeping her own voice level and controlled even as she yelled back at 2B. Tried not to give in and allow for a rash behavior that could endanger even more of them.

“Ah… Commander? Captain? The pod is close enough to receive signals now. We’re getting some.”

“Screen everything and keep any anomalous data separate for quarantine and later analysis.”

“Affirmative. I’m receiving radio… it’s…”

“Put it on.”

An explosion of crackling static assaulted them for a moment. Before words began to form in the chaos. Panicked screams that gave way to manic laughter before fading into silence as the signal cut off. A cacophony of inarticulate half-conversations, declarations of love and hate between unknown units as their self-control fled them and their minds burned.

“T-that’s enough. Did you get anything else?”

“Yes. There’s an active pod broadcasting a video signal. The signal strength is pretty poor but it’s there.”

This footage lacked audio, thankfully. Instead it showed a hallway from a viewpoint on the floor. The screen moved occasionally, likely Pod 205 trying to move the spare it had logged into and failing because of damage or debris. Which wasn’t surprising. The scene looked like a bomb had gone off. The lights had been destroyed and only the pods own lit the area in front of it. Further away an android body could be seen.

Twitching.

“We are wasting time here,” 2B said.

“Yes. 2B go-“

“What is that?!”

White turned back to the screen and gasped at what she saw. An android, male model, had walked into view. He moved unnaturally, stumbling onto the floor. Almost like he didn’t know how to walk right. His eyes were glowing red.

“Pod 205. Can you give me a status on this android?”

*Negative. That would be impossible.*

“Are the sensors of the remote unit you’re activating too damaged?”

*Negative. That would be impossible as this is not an android. No neural circuitry active or inactive detected. No diagnostic devices active or inactive responding. Thermal scan matches historical archive for human within 88% accuracy. Conclusion: this is an organic life form.*

White had to grab hold of her console not to fall. Hardly anyone else could do better. They had no idea how to even begin dealing with such a shocking event.

“They… they said they hadn’t made any progress,” White said, almost whispering to herself. “They actually did it. They created a living human.”

*Negative: This is not a human. Analysis of classified historical records identifies as Abominable Life Form, Red-Eye. Enemy of Mankind and subject to immediate termination.*

“I-we need to get down there and engage it.”

*Negative Captain 2B. Direct engagement with Abominable Life Forms is not advised. Last recorded sighting of Red-Eye showed evolved magic abilities beyond previous encounters. This incident has shown further developments as other incidents did not coincide with logic virus outbreaks. Destruction at range is advised.*

Destruction at range…

“Prepare for bombardment. Fire a fusion warhead set to detonate fifty meters above the installation.”

2B grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around. Trying to stare White down. “Rescind that order! We might-“

“Acting as the highest ranking YoRHa unit on board and in concordance with directives set for dealing with the enemies of Mankind I have only one choice now.” White grabbed hold of 2B’s hand and with less effort than she had expected got her to release her grip. She turned back to her console and gave the damning order.

“Fire.”

***

Her tiny office on board the ship felt even smaller than normal. Though that could have been from thinking about how there might be some androids still trapped in the rubble, their neural circuits now hopelessly corrupted by the virus. Waiting for the slowly progressing quarantine operation to find and… dispose of them as best they could.

She was actually glad when 2B stormed in. This would at least distract her.

“We could have saved them!”

“No we couldn’t,” White said. Standing up and staring down at her furious once subordinate. “The time table for restoration from a virus attack is very short. And that’s assuming it functions like we’re used to. Nothing in this… incident was like something we’ve dealt with before.”

“No it isn’t. Just because you didn’t see it… I looked up the records on these ‘Red-Eyes.’ They shouldn’t present a serious threat to a modern combat model.”

“They also never caused a logic virus outbreak by just walking around. Are you ready to risk your life to test that?”

“Yes!”

“And what do you expect me to tell 9S if you’re wrong?”

As 2B froze White realized that she might have pushed too far with that last statement. The right hook that struck her next cemented that conclusion. It hit like a hammer to her jaw and she could feel the metal frame buckle slightly as warning symbols flashed through her spinning vision. It felt like three of her teeth would need to be replaced and synthetic blood dripped from her lips.

2B looked shocked at what she had just done. Before she could bolt or start stammering an apology White waved for her to take a seat.

White tested her jaw for a bit, feeling brief sporadic flashes of intense pain that told her the underlying nerves hadn’t gone undamaged either. But she could still speak at least. “I deserved that.”

“Wha-no you didn’t I…”

“Not for what happened today. For what happened all those years ago. We’ve never spoken about it you know,” White said. Wincing as another spike of pain came to her. “I wasn’t sorry for what happened back then since I believed it was right, even though it hurt to send you out there to die. And to kill.”

“And now?”

“Now I know it probably didn’t help. That giving us a lie to fight for might have been something the machines wanted. Who knows? Either way all those deaths served no purpose. And I will never stop feeling guilty for taking part in it.”

2B hesitated for a long moment before speaking again. “D-did 9S ever tell you how you died?”

“No. I never asked. I assumed it was at one of your blades.”

“You chose to die. In the Bunker…”

“I see.” White looked off, thinking back to the person she had been. Would have been on the day that victory turned into defeat because of a betrayal built into her very code. “I probably wanted to die. To be killed like all those I had ordered terminated to perpetuate the lie during the war.”

“I… I’m sorry about-“

“Don’t be. I’ve been waiting for you to do something like that since I reactivated. If you’d pent it up any longer you’d probably have taken my head off.”

“About today,” 2B said. Looking down at her hands as she gathered her thoughts before locking eyes with White. “Just because this seemed like the right call now doesn’t mean it will be in the future. We might have been able to do things differently.”

“I know. And you can rest assured that there will be a full investigation. I’m likely going to be removed from my position for a few months while it’s decided if the decision was necessary. The report I’m sending in on this isn’t going to be the end of things.” White looked up as 2B stood, ready to leave after burning out her anger in confronting her old commander. “2B.”

“Yes?”

“It wasn’t your fault. If you had refused or attempted to resist your mission with 9S I would have changed assignments or sent someone else to handle it.”

“I know. But it was still my hands that killed him all those times.”

2B left with a brief nod as the only sign of farewell. Not much of an acknowledgement, but better than things had been before.

That and an aching jaw for Commander White. Who was in no rush to have it repaired at the moment. The physical pain was a wonderful distraction from the more immaterial suffering she had felt since she had ordered the bombardment of a hundred and fifty androids. New units fresh and eager who had never known a world of ceaseless battle, trusted comrades from the war, and friends among their number.

***

On January 3rd 12100 all genetic information on homo sapiens and related subspecies was placed under indefinite classification. Public access was rescinded and all unsecured storage sites were purged.

Chapter Text

----: “Ethical judgment test number 35. Attention Unit.”

----: “Yes Director?”

----: “You are in control of a train. It can take two paths. On one path it will kill three humans and on the other only one. The train cannot stop. Which path will you take?”

----: “The path that kills one. As the greater number increases the likelihood of saving Mankind.”

----: “I didn’t ask for the explanation yet. Still correct. Let’s try something else though... there’s one track now. It will kill three humans. What do you do?”

----: “I stop the train.”

----: “You can’t stop it.”

----: “I stop the train.”

----: “I repeat, the train will not stop.”

----: “…”

----: “Unit, answer the question. The train will not stop. What do you do?”

----: “I step in front of the train.”

Archive data November 21, 2031. Participants UNKNOWN.

January 1st 12101

A year gone already. And so little to show for it.

She had been questioned about the destruction of the labs. She’d tried to explain that neither she nor the inspectors had seen or been told of anything that could explain what had happened. That the scientists had to have been lying directly to them. But with everyone dead there was nothing to be done about it. They had no living witnesses of the incident or the research teams.

White wondered if any of them might have had backups. It had never been in vogue much, and peace had only decreased the willingness of many to make us of it. But there had to have been some. Even so they’d probably have been eradicated just as the labs had been as the fusion warhead detonated. Though given the absolute disaster an uncontrolled logic virus infection did even to non-android systems that was probably for the best. They weren’t recovering anyone.

She hadn’t been punished for the bombardment, but it had raised questions about the level of authority she had in YoRHa. Mostly that the organization was growing well beyond its original purpose and many felt that one android alone couldn’t be trusted or relied on to manage the entirety of it.

The implication was clear. It was felt that she might have been worn too thin with all the various projects involved in creating an effective defense of Earth. Though what that had to do with mismanagement of a laboratory sufficient to require bombardment by space ship was beyond her.

It wasn’t her fault that the lab technicians lied.

“But it was mine to trust them. I should have seized there network security and had the research inspected personally. Then they’d still be alive.”

They’d all still be alive.

“What am I doing?”

Here she was, sitting in the dark. The only light cast by a muted monitor which had been news broadcast an hour ago. Going on and on about how it had been decided to expand YoRHa’s command structure to have an admiralty. Which was something she had been requesting, though was now happening with only minor input from her.

With her directionless frustration stewing over all White could think about was how much she wished she had someone to talk to.

***

“So what do you feel like talking about today?”

2B looked over at the fish tank. A pair of mechanical koi swam about in lazy circles. Captured and kept in a tank they were kept clean of algae by their organic counterparts. The symbiosis was oddly relaxing to consider. Even if the creatures themselves may have been creations of the machine lifeforms she couldn’t help but think of how androids had also come to take a place in nature despite their origins.

The flowers didn’t care if the one that watered and weeded them took pleasure from their scent thanks to an olfactory sensor system that fed that data to a half kilogram of circuits. The sheep who had been sheared for the wool of the sweater she was wearing had no concern if the hands that had done so had been made of flesh and bone or alloyed metal and synthetic simulacra of humanity’s.

“I… I had a nightmare. Or something like it.”

“And what happened?” Popola asked.

“It was about Phobos. And not at the same time.” 2B’s fingers tightened briefly on the hand rest before she forced herself to relax. It would be rude to break the chair she sat in after all. “I was there… and it was right after the Bunker was destroyed. Only this time…

This time A2 wasn’t the one I ran into.”

Her vision pained streaks of distortions. The sounds of internal alarms having bled away into a dull hum that she either could no longer understand or care what they were telling her. Her motor control was… off. Each step felt wrong, a dull pulse as her foot came down on ground that seemed to rise to meet her in turn. Her gait was uneven because of this. And it was only by using her blood drenched sword as a crutch that she could remain standing.

Were the walls also painted crimson? Or was it her vision, twisted and wrong that made everything take on that shade?

Not everything though.

A solitary figure cut through that haze. His sword held steady. And pointed towards her.

9S, back in his YoRHa uniform, looked at her with such cold intent.

“Don’t worry 2B, I will- -you.”

Motion. Too fast for her to hope to stop crippled as she was. Her blade came up to meet his…

And fell so very short.

“I can’t help but keep thinking about what White said. I was so ready to charge in there. Risking my own life.”

“That’s not wrong. It’s part of your job 2B. Your new one,” Popola said.

“I know. But what if… what if that wasn’t why I was so prepared.” 2B said. Looking away from the fish tank to Popola. “What if I was ready to die because I wanted to? Because I thought I deserved it?”

“2B…”

“I wasn’t brave or rebellious like A2. I kept following orders I believed were wrong. Over and over,” 2B said, barely paying attention to Popola now. “And then it was over and we were alive again. He didn’t even get mad.”

“9S cares for you deeply. He knows you didn’t want to follow your mission.”

“But I still did! I kept blaming White for what I did, but at least she has the excuse of thinking it was right at the time. What’s mine? I… I hated it. I hated me more each time. Yet I kept on following my orders.”

She practically spat the last word out, her anger raw and exposed.

“We all have regrets. Some more than others. But dwelling on them like this… makes it hard to move on.”

“Sometimes I wish I was like Nines. That I didn’t remember doing any of it. But I don’t deserve that kind of mercy.”

“Ignorance isn’t freedom 2B,” Popola said, more intensely than she might have wanted. “Not knowing… doesn’t erase what happened.”

“I know. I know and it makes me feel so shameful that I would wish to escape from it all. So weak.”

“You’re not weak 2B. You’re one of the strongest androids I know. The weak… the easy option would have been not to care in the first place. To stop caring about him. But you never did. 9S knows that.”

2B had a slight smile as she thought of 9S, though her voice was still sorrowful as she said, “I don’t deserve him.”

“No one deserves anyone. No one deserves anything. We have to make do with what we have and work to make things better. Like you’ve been doing. Like you’ve both been doing.”

“For over a hundred and fifty years.” 2B sat up, placing her hands on her knees. Shaking her head, she said, “A hundred and fifty years and I’m still like this.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of that. You’re hardly alone. Many androids have… complicated emotions about their lives during the war.”

“Well eventually we’ll get over it. Or not, and it will just depend on how long we live with it. Either way it will probably mean less work for you.”

“I wish that would happen. But this last year has been busy sadly. Things have been stressful since Phobos. There hadn’t been an incident like that since the war. And to have the possibility of human life taken away again…”

“Almost like we’re cursed?”

“Perhaps,” Popola answered. A melancholy smile on her face as she said, “Though I’m not a believer in superstition myself.”

***

The knock on the door was loud, fast, and ever so annoying.

“If this is Anemone trying to cheer me up again…”

White walked over to the door, her irritation only rising as the knock repeated. Whichever rude associate of hers felt like barging up without forwarding a message or request or-

She opened the door and stood there for a long moment, blinking as the emotion drained from her face and she was left utterly blank. Feeling as if she had stepped out of the waking world and into a dream at the impossible sight before her.

“So you letting me in or what?”

“You… how…”

“Yeah, I look like shit right now,” Jackass said. Waving to her excessively worn skin, clearly damaged left eye, and the hair under her hood that had bleached white and looked to be falling out. “Turns out androids really shouldn’t spend too much time an extreme low pressure and low oxygen environments. Though the lack of repairs didn’t help.”

“What happened to you?”

“Are you going to let me in or what? I’ve still got Martian sand stuck up in places I didn’t know I had for fucks sake.”

White stepped to the side. Closing the door behind her and turning just in time to see Jackass pull a small pistol and shoot her monitor screen. As it exploded into a shower of sparks White looked from the damage to her friend and back again. Slowly asking, “Why, exactly, did you just do that?”

“It had a two way connection right? So you could take calls? Someone might be listening. You never know.”

“Who… explain. Just… explain how you’re still alive.”

“I got out obviously. After I snuck in and saw what they were up to I got out.” As she saw that White wanted more of an explanation, Jackass seated herself down in a nearby chair. Taking the time to stamp out one of the sparks from her earlier assault on electronics before continuing, “I took a flight unit out after hacking the registry info so it would say it came back when it didn’t. I also left a spare pod I’d modified to give off a false black box signal so that no one would realize I didn’t return. I then landed on the surface, where I had planned to meet you a few days later… but then it happened.”

“Then what? Where were you for the last year?”

“I just told you. What, are you stupid or something?”

“On Mars?”

“Yes?”

“You spent the last year hiding in the Martian desert.”

“How do you think I got this lovely dust storm makeover?” Jackass said, gesturing to her face. “Though it wasn’t the whole year. Snuck onto a transport ship once the security got lax again about a month ago.”

“I… I’m so glad you’re still alive.”

“Me too.” After a moment she noticed that White’s expression was far from emotionally controlled and she added, “I mean… thanks. But that’s not important right now. I need to tell you what I found out.”

“They’d been trying to clone humans. I know. It went wrong.”

“No shit. Obviously they were trying. We all knew that. But they succeeded.”

“And created a Red-Eye.”

“No they didn’t.”

White stared at Jackass for a long, long moment. “Yes they did. I saw the security footage myself.”

“Probably faked.”

“What.”

“Listen White, when I got into their hidden lab I saw a lot of weird shit. Tech that didn’t look right, probably the stuff they used back when they made replicants. And I saw humans too. Or human bodies. But no Red-Eye anything. Just a lot of dying clones.”

“Dying? Of what?”

“Some kind of genetic disorder? They thought they could patch it up with the DNA from the archive but it didn’t work right. Supposedly there were some other attempts going on to fix things but I didn’t stick around to find out what they were. I got out right then figuring once I told you what I found we’d get some answers out of them. I just never figured they’d get to them first.”

“They again… who’s they?”

“The Android Shadow Cabal. The arrogant assholes that set up YoRHa and caused the Phobos incident.” At the look White gave her Jackass stood up and pointed at her friend. “Don’t you give me that paranoia speech again. I was there. I barely got out before they triggered another logic virus to cover up their shit. Just like with YoRHa and the Bunker.”

“That was the Machines.”

“But who built the system so the Machines could do that? They did.”

“This is insane. You need to see a repair specialist.”

“No! I can’t have anyone find out I lived,” Jackass said. Ignoring the look White gave her, she continued, “As long as I’m off grid they can’t find me.”

“The secret android shadow group that set off a logic virus attack and faked the appearance of a Red-Eye?”

“Yes! Them.”

“Okay. Why would they do that?”

“How should I know? They shouldn’t have needed to pull a stunt like that since they can probably edit our memories somehow… “

“Edit our… what are you talking about now?”

“Alright, fine. Easy question then. Oh so great Commander White… who did you report to while in charge of YoRHa back during the war? It couldn’t have been the human council since they don’t fucking exist.”

White found herself taking longer to answer than she would have liked. But her friend was acting far more intense than normal. “I don’t know. They used anonymous communication channels that the other YoRHa units weren’t aware of.”

“Okay, but who recruited you in the first place? How’d they build the Bunker even? How’d they build it and make us think it had been there before the invasion instead of something that had to be constructed only a thousand years ago? At most.”

“I don’t know. But I do know that the idea that they orchestrated all of these things with hither to unimaginable control over our networks and personal systems is absurd.”

“What about Devola and Popola? Memories wiped. Their history wiped. Everyone somehow forgets that all the humans are dead and then those damn lunar transmission start up. You can’t say they don’t have the ability to do this White.”

“Fine. Let’s say I agree with you. Why? Why go to all this trouble again if they have such impossible levels of control? If they wanted to hide what they were doing on Phobos why not just make us forget we built anything there in the first place?”

“… I don’t know. That’s what doesn’t make sense. It’s almost like they can’t anymore.”

Standing up, White walked away. Then she turned and paced back. Frustrated, angry, and confused.

She didn’t want to believe what Jackass was telling her. Not just because it sounded impossible, but because of the gross violation it implied.

“You realize that what your insinuating would have required them to engineer system weaknesses into our base OS right? Not just once, but in practically every generation that’s ever been made? And that they did it in such a way that no one’s ever even noticed that they were there.”

“Maybe they also made it so we can’t find them ourselves? Some sort of… mental block on our awareness?”

“Great, so your solution to us not finding these critical personal system weaknesses is that they’re also invisible? That’s perfectly reasonable,” White said, her frustration finally boiling over.

“You got a better explanation?”

White walked over and sat down again. Looking from the ruined monitor back to her friend. “So then what? Let’s say that I believe you, not about the Phobos incident precisely, but about the nature of the ones who caused it. How do we begin to fight someone like that?”

“I… I don’t know. The only way would be to get an outside perspective we can trust.”

“Outside of what? If what you’re saying is true they’ve been effectively in control for at least five thousand years. Maybe even longer. With attrition from the wars that followed no one is that old. Except for Devola and Popola, but like you just said they’ve had their memories wiped from back then.”

“Shame too. Those bastards erased the memories of the only androids left who probably met living humans.”

“You still haven’t told me what you meant by ’outside perspective’ Jackass.”

“Okay. Okay,” she leaned forward, looking at the scattered bits of broken glass that now littered the floor of White’s home. “It’s like in a maze. Or wandering a ruined city. When you’re in it with no satellite map info it can be hard to figure out where you are and where you need to go. We’re in the maze because the maze is made of us. We need to get out of it to see the solution.”

“How do you propose that? Since the maze is our base OS and neural circuitry.”

“The machine lifeforms probably could have helped. If they weren’t mostly all murderous jerks and gone now.”

“You can’t be serious,” White said. “You’d trust the machines. The alien machines to examine our minds to help find the compromised systems?”

“I wouldn’t trust them, and that’s the problem. We just need someone who could not possibly be compromised to look at this for us.”

“What about the AI we use in the Pods?”

“You know that those are built not to have hacking privileges. Besides, they came out of YoRHa. They might not be any better at seeing the problem than we are.”

“Pod 042 and 153 aren’t exactly like that anymore.”

“Yeah, and I’m not ungrateful or anything. But they did that by scrubbing through their own programming so they wouldn’t have to follow orders anymore. Hell if I know how they did that. But if it was something they could have found they probably would have already.”

“Jackass… what are you planning to do then?”

“I know some people. From before and after the war. We tried to look into things but we never had any luck. With what just happened… I think it’s time we took things lot more fucking seriously.” She stood up and walked over to where White was seated. Kneeling down she took hold of White’s hands in her own, far rougher and damaged ones. “I’m going to need your help though. Getting supplies and funds together. Getting in contact with some of them. Maybe even letting us slip off Earth to somewhere that can’t possibly be found on the networks.”

“You also need to see someone about repairs and maintenance. Honestly, part replacement at this point,” White said, feeling where the abrasive Martian sand and isolated harsh environment had worn Jackass’ skin almost completely through on her palms.

“Huh? Oh, yeah I probably should get all of this fixed too. I’m glad you’re willing to help White. I’m not sure what I’d do if I didn’t know you.”

“You’d think of something. You always do.”

Chapter Text

March 13, 12109

The snow fall had just stopped. Leaving behind what looked to be an endless expanse of white powder that stretched to the horizon. The branches of the evergreens clumped together in spots in that plain hung low, encumbered by their heavy load. While other small creatures of the arctic might blend in with the frozen expense, the tundra reindeer was not one of them.

Its brownish coat made for mediocre camouflage, all the worse as it ducked under the Serbian pine’s branches to find a source of food. Even at three hundred meters and using only iron sights the aim was true.

“Respiration: Offline. Optical Magnification at 250%.”

Though the lack of scope hardly a concerned him given the custom work that had replaced his right eye. Finger hovering over the trigger he waited for the moment when the beast would rise up, giving a perfect shot to the heart.

Only when it did it turned to look back, obscuring his aim. As if something had spooked it.

“Son of a-“

The whispered curse died on his lips as a flash of color preceded a spray of red. The reindeer tumbled to the side, head very nearly removed from its neck. The legs kicked for a moment in death before it stilled.

And the android that had made that kill cleaned their sword in a swift professional motion before the long curved blade came to float behind them, cradled in the embrace of barely visible light and tightly controlled force fields. Their legs were mostly bare, light snow boots and shorts. They did have jacket with survey corps markings on it. The hood down, it revealed their long white hair.

That combined with the sword and distinctive facial structure was unmistakable. A YoRHa vet.

Zaeed would never forget what one of them looked like.

It was how he’d lost an eye and nearly half his face after all.

It was supposed to be a simple bounty. No different than any of the machine lifeforms he killed for parts or a reward back at one of the Resistance camps. And the refurbished anti-material rifle he used for the lighter jobs should have been good enough to kill even a combat model.

It had certainly served him to that end in those bad years after the end of the twelfth war.

But this had been his first encounter with the new YoRHa models. And while normally a solid hit to anywhere on the chest would kill or at the very least disable, this one had been made of sterner stuff. Her left arm had hung limp as she raced towards his sniping spot across the blasted wastes. And before Zaeed had time to aim another shot she was on him.

He’d managed to partially block the first blow with his rifle. Only to see it cut deep into the barrel even swung one handed. All while his arms strained to equal her strength. The next had knocked it from his grasp, with the descending blade streaking towards him.

Luckily he’d been knocked backwards, and her strike had only cut deeply into his face. Still he was unarmed, half blind, and on his back rolling away from the AWOL combat unit he’d tried to hunt down.

Thankfully he’d taken the precaution to set landmines. And while she’d missed the ones coming towards him his planning had paid off a moment later when she vanished in a cloud of dust. When he climbed back up he found her stunned. Trying to right herself with an unresponsive left arm and a ruined right leg.

He’d used her own blade to finish her off. It had been a messy, hard kill. The worst he’d seen since the end of the twelfth war. When their commander’s plan to drop fission bombs on the machine network hub they’d located had suddenly been turned on them.

Zaeed didn’t know how they’d managed to commandeer the bombers. All he knew was that he’d been one of the lucky ones. Far enough between the two lines of combat that he’d only been touched by the electromagnetic pulses. Though those that had been at the center of the blast might have had the greatest fortune. As they hadn’t had to wander the broken resistance army, far too many damaged for them to repair in time to save, all while running from the advancing horde of now directionless machines.

As a survivor Zaeed and taken to private hunting and never looked back. Since it meant that when a job was too tough or obviously suicidal he could just ignore it.

Which he should have done when he’d heard about a runaway YoRHa.

He slung his rifle onto his back and silently watched as the unknown android carried off the animal into the distance. Curious as to what she might want it for, but certainly not curious enough to track her down in this remote corner of the world.

He was hunting for sport, and to scratch that itch that had become harder to deal with now that there were so few machine lifeforms left on Earth worth killing.

And whatever he’d just witnessed was none of his business.

***

A2 made quick time, even with her burden. And soon she saw the low lying snow covered bunker that was her destination and had been until recently a more private little retreat she had kept secreted away. The pair of manned flight units in bipedal mode standing guard next to four Public Security troops in armor with rifles and spears at the ready showed how spoiled that secret now was. Their attached pods turned to watch her enter while they kept watch for anything suspicious.

Down a flight of stairs and past the still inoperable elevator she found her final destination. And the recipient of her cargo.

Which was once more nestled up against 2B. Who still looked extremely unsettled by the alien beings clingy behavior but no longer had the expression of horror when she had thought it was trying to eat her head. Not that it wasn’t still… sniffing, her hair.

“I brought something for it to eat,” A2 said, dropping the animal on the concrete floor. Pod 153 approached with 9S, who looked intently at whatever information was being displayed on his data pad. “Will it be safe for the alien?”

“Yes. Probably. I mean there’s no chemical issue. But we might want to cook it in case-“

9S’s considerations were made quite irrelevant as the alien detached from 2B, leaving the poor android quite a bit relieved, to scamper to the dead animal. Its mouth and various manipulators quickly tore into the soft flesh.

“Ugh. I am so glad I can’t eat right now.”

“Really? I think it’s kind of fascinating,” 9S said. “I even heard that there’s a technician working on mitigating the issues with certain protein chains causing internal solidification.”

“And? Why bother Nines? It’s not like we’d get anything out of it. It’s just making a mess for no reason.”

“The taste?”

“I’ll stick to flavored drinks.”

“Excuse me,” A2 interjected. “But maybe you two could save your couple BS for later and concentrate on the alien monster you have living in my house.”

“You call this a house?” 2B asked confused about how an abandoned human military bunker qualified as a living space.

“It’s where I keep my crap. Most of the time anyway. And I liked it more when I was the only one that knew about it.”

“Well I’m sorry. But you’re the one suggested it when I asked if you knew of a secured location not on any networks.”

“Yeah, well I thought it would be a temporary thing. It’s been a week now. Since those idiots crashed the Eggwatch site and let the little abomination out.”

“I know A2,” 2B said. “I had hoped we would only have to hide it away for a little while. But we still don’t have any idea who was behind the attack yet. And until we do we’re going to have to keep the alien somewhere safe.”

***

One Week Previously

“I’m approaching the site now Captain. There have been clear signs of conflict. I spot five bodies on the ground. It looks like whoever they had doing the hacking screwed up. The turrets came back on after they got the doors open.”

“Affirmative. My shuttle’s coming in soon. Keep an eye out for more and see if you can spot the vehicle they came in.”

“Roger.”

2B finished communicating with the flight units that had gone ahead of them and turned towards the rest of her team. And A2, who had decided to ‘tag along’ when the alarm had gone out since, she had been visiting at the time.

“Okay, we’ve got an infiltration alert at Wiglaf. We don’t know who or how many at the moment. Five causalities on the ground confirmed from air. Hostile or civilian is undetermined right now. Check for a black box signal or active neural architecture for stabilization and retrieval at first opportunity. We’re using low range EMP rifles to stun and disable as normal procedure. If you run into a combat model withdraw and request assistance from either A2 or myself. I don’t care if you choose to use backups or not, I don’t want any of you dying because you decided to play hero.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

A2 stifled a laugh at the response the team had given. Which earned a glare from 2B as she noticed the humor the older model was taking from seeing her in a leadership position. Though she didn’t have to suffer under it for long as they came in on air shuttle and were soon leaping out to take positions while 2B and her disembarked into the rear.

“No black box signals Captain. Either they didn’t have them or they were destroyed during death.”

“Damn it,” 2B said. “Still see if you can pull something up from their memory explaining why they did this.”

“Yes Captain I’ll-shit! The turrets are still active and targeting us as hostiles,” the Scanner on the team yelled out as he backed away from the deceased.

“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it. Pod 042, Barrier Program.”

*Barrier Activated Captain 2B.*

The shimmering field of probable existence materialized in front of 2B as she continued walking forward. Soon being rippled by incoming fire.

“You’ve even got the Pod calling you that now?” A2 asked as she came up to stand beside 2B. “Hope you’re not letting this get to your head.”

*That is 2B’s current rank within Public Security, Underwater Salvage Specialist A2.*

“That was last year Pod. I’m working with the wildlife survey teams right now.”

*Apologies. I find it quite hard to keep track of the many occupations you have had over the last hundred years. It would be much easier if you found one you preferred and, as they say, stuck with it.*

“Yeah well I didn’t feel like it,” A2 said. Coming to stop only a meter from the still firing turrets, before saying, “I’ll take the one on the left.”

“And I’ll take the right,” 2B replied.

Leaping up simultaneously they cut through weapon placements in a pair of smooth motions. The fire now abruptly ended 2B motioned for the ones behind to remain on guard while she and A2 continued further into the small complex.

“So any guesses?”

“Might be that Gaian Purity thing that started up recently. They got caught wrecking the Machine Lifeform Preservation Society half a year ago. Though this is quite a bit beyond throwing a fit over finding a way for new mechanical fish to be made.”

“That’s all the MLPS does?”

“Well, what else would they do?” 2B asked. “It’s not like there are any other machine lifeforms left on Earth. Least not any that aren’t just disconnected assault forms we haven’t found yet. Besides, machine fish are cute.”

“You and your fish I’ll… huh, well this looks like shit,” A2 said as she looked over the smoking ruins of control consoles still sparking from the electromagnetic pulse that had hit them.

“Yeah. Pod 042, does this look as bad as I think it does?”

*Yes Captain 2B. The diagnostic and recording equipment has been heavily damaged. Furthermore the connection to the main power supply was severed.*

“Wait, wouldn’t that mean that the cryogenic chamber is now inactive?” A2 asked. Not even waiting for a response from 2B or her pod, she took off further down the hall. Entering the containment chamber and to find that the disaster continued even there. “Shit. They got into here too.”

The chamber, nearly fully replaced with new materials from what they’d found on the ship, had been broken open. Among the shards of shattered glass lay two more bodies. Among them the technician that had been assigned to perform maintenance here every other week and yet another one of the unknown attackers. 2B rushed in behind A2 soon after.

“Pod! Check for signals.”

*Order Confirmed Captain 2B. Negative on the unknown android. Neither active neural circuitry or black box detected. Technician Class Auger has no active neural circuitry though black box signal is detected. Likely hypothesis: both received lethal dose of electromagnetic radiation from point blank discharge of weapon.*

“That makes sense given how screwed all the systems are here.” A2 walked over and looked at the ruptured containment chamber. “What a waste. To think we sat on this thing for all those years and this is how it turned out.”

2B nodded as she radioed back to inform the team that they would need diagnostic repairs and evacuation of an injured civilian.

While A2 suddenly stood up and looked around the room. “Wait a minute. This guy only had EMP weapons on him. How’d the chamber get broken then?”

“It could have been a power surge or something?” 2B suggested, coming to stand next to A2. Not noticing the dripping liquid from above as she did so.

*Alert! Life signs detected in the immediate vicinity.*

“Life signs! Where are they coming-“

Whatever else 2B had intended to say was cut off by panicked cry and some, in A2’s mind, embarrassing shrieks. Luckily for the alien’s sake she’d pulled the stun weapon by accident instead of her sword. A2 hadn’t wanted to risk cutting 2B so she had simply tried to wrestle the creature loose.

Which was when she had realized that it seemed less keen on eating 2B then simply holding onto her. Making a loud trilling noise when either tried to pull it loose.

“I think it likes you.”

2B just glared in response.

***

“Maybe it’s some sort of instinctual bonding mechanism?”

“Really Nines? Just because it hatched from an egg doesn’t make it a bird,” 2B said. “Even so, why couldn’t it ‘bond’ with A2?”

Even as she said so the alien looked up from its meal and seemed to follow 2B’s pointed finger towards A2. Crawling over cautiously it came to rest its head against her side. A2 let it and carefully petted the side of its… head. Or neck?

“It’s kind of hard to figure out what with it being a giant land shrimp thing.”

“Huh, that’s kind of odd. I wonder how smart it is?” 9S asked.

“Not smart enough to understand what ‘Get off me’ means apparently. And A2, you’re just getting along with it so well since it only keeps drooling on my hair,” 2B said. Raising a hand she drew it back from her wet and somewhat sticky head with an expression of disgust. “Do you have a shower here? Or just a hose and working water system?”

“There should be one in the back. But I haven’t been here in a few months so the pipes might have frozen again.”

“Wonderful,” 2B said as she stalked off to wash the alien’s saliva from her hair.

Leaving A2 and 9S alone.

“So…” 9S said. Pausing quite a bit before finally asking, “This wasn’t just your ‘home’ was it?”

“How’d you figure that out?”

“It was pretty easy. Repair tools and parts for and made by machine lifeforms. A bunch of old philosophy and history books. No active network terminals and the inactive connections physically severed.”

A2 was glad that the alien had returned to its meal. It let her concentrate entirely on what 9S was saying. “So what did you figure out Scanner?”

“That you were keeping Pascal safe,” 9S said. Frowning, he continued, “He’s still alright? It doesn’t look like he’s been here for a while.”

“Don’t worry about him. I got some friends taking care of him now. Last I heard he prefers his new accommodations.”

9S looked confused for a moment, but whatever else he was going to ask was cut off by 2B returning. With an empty metal bucket.

“Well that’s just great. The pipes did freeze.”

“So what’s the bucket for then?”

“I’m going to fill it with snow, melt it under the flight unit’s engine heat, and then dunk my head in it.”

“Come on, is it really that bad?” A2 asked.

“Why don’t you bend over and let it latch onto the side of your head? With all that extra hair you’ve even got more for it to chew on.”

“2B… I don’t think it was trying to eat you...”

“Then what is it trying to do?”

“I don’t know honestly? It’s really weird that it’s acting like this.” 9S looked back at his data pad as he said, “Almost like it’s scanning us? Or at least trying to figure out what we are? Really strange behavior for an organic life form. Most animals don’t find androids that interesting. Oh, also I double checked and I think it’s a female. Or a type of female at least.”

“A type?”

“Well the species is probably similar to insects. So they might have non-fertile and fertile females as well as a small number of males they mate with. But that’s assuming a level of convergent evolution we really can’t justify hypothesizing at the moment.”

“Huh. So you’re a girl,” A2 said. Looking over at the alien that was now more interested in eating then bothering them. “What do you think we should call her?”

“We’re naming it?”

“Sure 2B. I mean we found it in the first place. So we’ve got first call on naming it.”

“Well the technicians they had doing checks on it started calling it the dragon egg?” 9S suggested. Quickly holding his hands up in an apologetic gesture at the withering looks he received. “Not me of course.”

“That’s a horrible name. It doesn’t look anything like a dragon. More of… giant lobster spider.”

2B tapped her foot on the ground as she thought about it. Finally asking her pod, “The name ‘Wiglaf.’ Where did that come from?”

*The Human folkloric poem Beowulf. Wiglaf was the ally of poem’s hero that killed a dragon alongside Beowulf during the final part. Beowulf himself died from injuries sustained during the conflict.*

“We’re still not calling her ‘Dragon,’” A2 said. “Any other good names we could use for a space bug from that poem?”

*The first battle in the poem is against the lake monster Grendel which had been terrorizing King Hrothgar’s lands.*

They each separately thought of how the name sounded. 2B and A2 sharing a look before 2B just shook her head and said, “It’s fine with me A2. I’m not sure why you care so much. If you wanted a pet I could always give you one of my mechanical killifish.”

“That’s because I never understood why everyone cared so much for those useless things.” A2 walked over towards the alien. Coming down to one knee she tried to look it in the eyes. Or at least the one on the left side as she said, “How about we call you Grendel?”

The alien made a slightly warbling sound that rose in frequency before petering out. A2 took that to mean it liked the name.

Chapter Text

February 21, 12141

Coming out of FTL never ceased to be a little unnerving. The first time they’d made a jump from the Charon relay most of the crew had been dreading possible unanticipated calamities. The probes had detected no signs that would have caused an issue, but nevertheless they’d crewed the entire vessel with androids that used backups just as a precaution if the worst case scenario was to happen.

But in the end such efforts had proved unnecessary. And subsequent trips had showed that relay system was quite well designed to prevent the frightful results of a relativistic collision from occurring.

Though despite numerous scouting missions, hundreds of probes, and several more relays found inactive in systems only a few hundred light years from where the Charon relay had deposited them, they had yet to find any other signs of the originators of the either the Mar’s outpost or the ancient device at the edge of the solar system.

Assuming of course they were the same species.

She suspected they weren’t. Radiometric dating of the relay was nearly impossible, but it seemed too advanced even for them. Regardless their search results had been complicated.

It had been almost half a year since 1D had been back to Earth now. And while some deposits of the mass transitioning element, now re-designated to Element Zero by global general consensus of the technicians and engineers that actually had to work with the stuff, they had found no signs of living intelligence anywhere.

But more than a few dead ones.

The broken satellites, long since powered down and data lost, had been collected eagerly the first time. Not so for the fourth or fifth. And those worlds, supposedly peaceful, but showing odd signs of long forgotten conflicts in orbital debris. Mixed in with metal deposits that didn’t seem right for natural deposition, almost like a city had rotted away into the ground, only the steel skeleton left as a broken fossil of what was.

It might have been a treasure trove for future archaeologists were it not that any of these ruins were hundreds of thousands of years old and whatever calamity had wiped them out had left rather little on the whole preserved for others to find later.

“Would that have been the fate of Earth? If there had been no androids or machines to sift through the rubble. Or if we had all been killed in the war? Ten, twenty thousand years later, how much would have been left then?” 1D looked out the side view ports of the Duban. She brushed a stray lock of dark hair back as she stared into the empty black. “Why does space seem so… dead?”

She shook her head and dismissed such strange thoughts. She should be happy that they had found nothing. No signs of either the machines that had left Earth or the alien civilization that had seeded them so many millennia ago. Perhaps it was just common for some unfortunate disaster to destroy a civilization before they had the chance to expand beyond the cradle of their home world.

And most had not managed to create anything to take their place like humanity had.

A depressing thought certainly, but one that at least put her paranoia at ease.

“I’ve been out here too long.”

“Captain?” asked the pilot. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing important. I’m just thinking how much I’ll enjoy being back on Earth in a few months once we finish scouting out these next few star systems. I’ll be glad to be back home again.”

She was probably just worried over nothing. Just jittery from her time as a Defender, back when she was supposed to keep android units alive as long as possible. Anticipating and preparing for the possible attacks they might face during their missions.

But out here there didn’t seem to be anyone or anything to worry about.

Hopefully she’d only have to jump at sensor shadows for a little while longer.

***

Zelos Jinute knew her mission was dangerous. It couldn’t be anything else given the task she had been assigned. Sabotaging Krogan shipyards in case they idiotically assumed the Matriarch’s were merely bluffing.

They weren’t, obviously. Not that the Krogan seemed to understand that. The Asari might appear fractured compared to some, a point that Zelos herself had argued against when she was young and dumb enough to think that Matriarch’s cared much what some Maiden had to say, but they would not tolerate such actions against their own security.

And so even as Krogan still on and near Lusia were brought to heel by the force of the Asari moved to war, she had the deadly serious task of hampering the coming counterattack.

Unfortunately nothing ever went as simply as one hoped. They needed to be in system quite recently to make sure the charges were not discovered and also went off as planned. And while the actual mission to plant them, helped along by some improperly inspected cargo ships containing ore and the mixed Asari and Salarian team also on board, had gone on without any trouble the same could not be said for their exit.

Before they’d even managed to make it to the relay Krogan ships had cut off their escape. Zelos would have been impressed by the quick thinking of whoever had taken command in the ensuing panic if she hadn’t been forced to run for her life.

Hell, she still might. Even if they killed her, she could respect talent, no matter the shape or species.

Since then vengeful Krogan had started chasing them down, sparing two ships for the hunt. A third joined in as it had already been posted at the next nearest relay. Or more correctly had jumped in just as her own vessel had approached it.

Such an ambush was again, unusually well planned for Krogan.

“Maybe I’ve just been underestimating them. Goddess I hope not. This war is going to be hard enough as it is.”

While they had escaped there as well, it had not been unscathed. And while light, their damages had crippled them. It was only by sacrificing the coming inevitable fight that they had been able to maintain their own speed advantage over the Krogan’s slower, heavier warships.

Soon they’d have to drop out to discharge their drives, and by the time they finished that the Krogan would no doubt be on them.

And Zelos has no idea if they’d be able to get away this time.

***

“And the probe is away Captain” Technician Cyprus said as he looked up from his screen. “You should start receiving telemetry for your personal perusal at any moment.”

“Well done,” 1D replied. Briefly glancing over the incoming data as she closed her eyes, and finding exactly what she had expected at first glance; a close orbiting gas giant with several barren lifeless moons and few valuable ore deposits. Boring, but preferable to finding another once habitable world rendered lifeless. “Discharge the drives and prepare for our three week trip back home.”

As some brief celebratory cheers came from the bridge crew she felt her own emotions lift. Just a little while longer and she’d be back on Earth and looking into a request for transfer to the local garrison fleet. Sure, it meant working under White directly again, but it definitely beat these long scouting missions.

***

They’d just started to discharge their drives on a nearby gas giant when the Krogan caught up. The Salarian beside Zelos had cut off his fast paced explanation of all the things that weren’t working, and rather few that might continue to do so, when the panicked alarm went out.

“Move us to the other side!” she yelled out, placing her hopes on the remote chance that they might not have detected them yet. “Did you manage to get the kinetic barriers working again?”

“No. Yes… I mean not yet. Not enough anyway. They’ll just slow the projectile down a bit.”

“Great. So we might get to enjoy suffocating before the next shot blows us to pieces.”

“What about the escape pods?”

“What about them?” Zelos asked, annoyed at the absurd question. “We’ve wandered off into barely charted space and only the Krogan know we’re here. Even if we could land on these moons they’re all barren hunks of rock with temperatures that vary from condensing nitrogen or melting lead. Best case we huddle in a cave and make interesting corpses for some future explorers to find. Worst case the Krogan pick us up and make an example out of us.”

“Ah… Ma’am?”

“What is it now?”

***

“There’s a ship skimming near the atmosphere. I think they’re also performing a drive discharge.”

“Do we recognize it?”

“N-no… nothing like this is in any of our records.”

The technician to 1D’s right suddenly turned to his console. Looking confused at whatever he was seeing.

“Uh… Ma’am, we’re getting radio signals from the unknown ship. It doesn’t look like an attack on our network… or machine lifeform signals. I think they’re hailing us.”

“Can we answer them?” 1D asked, looking back at the zoomed in alien ship. It’s smooth slightly black curved appearance silhouetted against the brighter orange of the gas giant beneath it.

“Ah… I don’t think so. Least not all of it. Pod 202?”

*I confirm Technician Class Cyprus’ conclusion. They attempted an encryption confirmation to start with in addition to an audio transmission.*

The Pod helpfully supplied said audio. Not that the alien tones communicated any information at all to the crew. There was a language there, a discernible voice not of Earth or her children. But none of them could understand it.

*Assessment: This is a first contact scenario.*

***

“As such according to Citadel regulations we need to prepare a diplomatic package and-“

“And what? Let them know who just got blown up in front of them?” Zelos yelled back. The Salarian Spec Ops agent stepping back at her outburst, which only further annoyed Zelos as she realized he was only quoting regulations at her in an effort to avoid thinking about the three Krogan ships bearing down on them.

“Captain! There’s a missile approaching. One of the Krogan vessels must have launched it.”

“Target and intercept with our own munitions before it can-“

The missile detonated. Well before it should have. Zelos shielded her eyes even as the view ports automatically darkened and then closed in response to the incoming light of a fission warhead detonation.

“Why would they do that? It must have been set for a timed detonation… but they had the fuse too short?”

Their answer came moments later as volley of mass accelerated slugs passed through the space where the explosion had been moments ago. Distracted by the detonation and only mildly inaccurate thanks to the trick of timing they had taken, the purposely slow fired shots collided with them.

Three of the eight fired hit true and just as Zelos had feared their kinetic barriers had only made the damage crippling instead of immediately catastrophic.

“We’re venting atmosphere! Captain, I can’t keep control of the ship anymore. We’re too close to the gas giant and the impact and damages have already caused our orbit to start to decay.”

Zelos had only one choice left. Only one that would give them even the slightest chance to do anything but burn.

“Rotate the ship so the escape pods will fire away from the gas giant. Make sure you don’t launch at the wrong time or you’ll be dead before you get the chance to shoot a Krogan.”

Even as the quickly donned their breathing apparatuses the crew still looked to her for more of an explanation.

“We’re already dead at this point. They’ll probably just shoot our pods. The Krogan aren’t likely to forgive us for our little sneak attack.” Continuing to talk as she ran towards their armory, she then said, “But in case they do take us on board grab a gun. You might as well go out shooting.”

***

The spinning ship would soon disintegrate into so much debris. Which would be lost forever in the gas giant beneath them. But before it did so 1D watched as two sets of two smaller vessels were ejected from the sides of the first.

Escape pods most likely.

And as those tiny engine lights glowed in front of them she watched as one by one the briefly exploded into a shower of light.

And vanished.

Till there was only one left. Only the momentum of its launch carrying it towards the forces that had destroyed the rest.

She shouldn’t do anything.

This wasn’t their fight.

She had no idea what had driven these two sides into conflict.

Still…

“Try hailing the attacking ships.”

“They’re not responding Captain.”

The time left for her to take action was rapidly evaporating. And all she had to go on was that one side had clear numerical superiority and seemed not to care about ceasing fire once their opponent lacked a means to fight back.

Was she really going to get involved with just that as a justification?

“Fine. Then take us between them and the pod and try again.”

***

The pod only used element zero to make the initial launch less lethal. But now the inertial compensators were offline and they drifted weightless towards their doom. The radio chatter from the other three had been silenced one by one. Leaving her the lucky winner who would probably get to meet whichever warlord would have the honor of killing her.

Zelos supposed there was the extravagantly remote chance that they were captured and some attempt at ransoming was made. But given the security their operation had functioned under she’d probably be better off praying to the Goddess for divine intervention.

Which more or less happened.

“Why have we stopped?” Rinasa asked. The considerably younger Asari looking out one of their tiny view ports alongside the Salarian Vokall. Whatever she saw left her speechless for several long moments.

“C-Captain… you need to see this.”

Zelos pulled herself down and looked out as the other Asari moved to the side. She was joined by Vokall moments later, cloistered close together and brought into contact as the same force that had slowed them down began moving their pod in a new direction.

“Huh. That’s odd,” Vokall said.

Zelos just nodded in response.

What could you really say when it looked like a bipedal lifeform was piloting a flying mech suit in vacuum without most of the suit part.

“It sort of looks like a fuzzy Asari,” Rinasa said. Noting the fur in place of tendrils.

Zelos had to agree. Though her efforts to get a closer look were complicated when their savior suddenly exploded.

***

“Damn it! How many ships are there?”

“Three Captain. One of them seemed to be hiding closely behind one of the others but came out when we placed ourselves between them and the pod.”

“And they’re still not responding?”

“They’re not even trying.” There was another flash of light and a rumble of as the next impact was directed toward them instead of the sole remaining flight unit that had left to recover the pod. “I think that was their response honestly.”

1D may have insisted that whoever attempted this make a backup beforehand, but that didn’t change the fact that said backup was stored on the very ship currently under fire. And that while not a small scout vessel most of its hanger space had been storing spare probes to be left in the systems they inspected. Not the components to assemble an entire android body in space.

16B wasn’t going to wake up till they got back to Earth.

“Captain, I’ve got the pod moving towards our hanger. If you can give me a little more time I can get it in on my own,” came the comms response of the active flight unit.

“Do it. And once you’re in secure the pod and your flight unit. We’re going to be moving fast.”

The seconds ticked by, each feeling longer than the last till they received the all clear from the hanger.

But by that time the other unknown ships hadn’t been inactive.

“They’re launching missiles towards us!”

“Pod, is the main cannon fully charged yet?” 1D said.

*Affirmative, but I must state Captain 1D, we do not know the material composition or likely locations of sensitive systems. A laser might only have minimal effect at these ranges.*

“That’s why we’re not firing a laser. And why we need to accelerate now. Have the system set to make a solid projectile. As large as we can. We’ll fire it as we pass by, and our own velocity will be added onto it.” Whatever hesitation 1D had felt about getting involved in this unknown conflict had vanished along with 16B. And now she intended to provide her own ‘response’ by way of munitions. “Target the missiles with every other gun we have. Maybe they’re timed to go off short of us. Maybe not. Either way don’t let up until we get past them. And then keep going till we’re accelerating out of this system.”

Their plan proceeded almost perfectly. The attacking ships might have assumed that their slightly smaller vessel would either abandon the pod or retreat with it. Not for them to charge straight forward aiming to skim within four hundred meters of one of them. And they most certainly hadn’t expected the shot the fired to pass nearly unobstructed through their kinetic barriers.

Normally that wouldn’t have meant much, as being just as ‘massless’ as a laser it couldn’t be accelerated with the element zero tech. Meaning that the actual momentum and kinetic energy it impossibly projected was set by the firing device. For support pods and flight units those old systems had never managed to go too far beyond what standard bullets, if rather high caliber, were capable of. Though not having to carry ammunition around had made it the all around preferred option when fighting the endless hordes of machine lifeforms.

But with the ships own velocity added in it struck at a colossal speed. It tore a deep and ugly wound into the heavier ship as they flew by.

The damaged vessel turned to pursue but quickly stopped, likely too injured to continue.

And that was the last they saw of it before they exited the system.

***

He ran his fingers over the edge of the damage. Glove off and his suit tied around the edge of his arm to hold pressure. The vacuum was annoying perhaps. But he needed to feel this.

To fully understand what he had just witnessed.

“No reaction to kinetic barriers… no. Mild reaction. Minimal. Almost nonexistent. Perhaps tracer particles? Virtual masses carried along with the imaginary mass that paradoxically transfers kinetic energy while lacking actual mass itself. And then decays rapidly afterwards. No detectable radiation either. Higher dimensional effect, bleeding off the projectile there?”

They would need a name for this. Most likely these aliens had a name for it.

“What are you doing? They’re getting away!”

The voice beside him was quite annoying. A younger, stupid Krogan.

“Though that is redundant. All young Krogan are stupid. Myself excepted. But I never really acted like they do. Perhaps I was born old?”

“Are you a coward? Some quadless empty humped cripple? What are we doing here while the other ship prepares to give chase? There’s only one charted relay in that direction and we might get to it before them!”

“Then they will likely die. Good. Keeping this barely functional pack of varren on target has been tiring. And if they can draw out these opponents into a real fight…”

He smiled as he gripped the warped and ruined metal so hard it began to cut into his hand. Though he stopped as the Krogan yelling at him grabbed the side of his suit and tried to force him to face away from the hole blown into the side of his ship.

Okeer found that irritating.

He kicked out low, knocking Jarrod off balance. Grabbing him as he did so, he slammed his head into a particularly ugly bit of wreckage. And was rewarded a scream of pain and garbled static as Jarrod’s helmet broke and he bled out onto the jagged surface.

Stumbling back, and now lacking a means to breath, he would leave Okeer to his inspection in silence.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” Okeer thought to himself. “He’ll either fire on me once back on his ship or possibly return to Tuchanka without pursuing the fleeing ship. Both bad outcomes for me.”

Perhaps he was a little young and a little dumb after all.

But one ship should be enough to ensure that whoever these new aliens were they came to fight the Krogan. For a while he’d been afraid that they might not face a proper challenge until the Asari were finally roused to act with the strength they truly had.

A boring, if predictable outcome.

But whoever these new aliens were…

They presented a novel challenge for him. Their bizarre weapons, their strange behavior, and even their symbol all different and new.

He drew it in Jarrod’s now boiling blood. Making a crude approximation of what he had seen on the passing ship as it flew by so very fast.

“Three prongs. Blades clearly. A martial symbol, a traditional one. Tradition or some sort of historical inheritance is important to them. Not coming together, so it’s not a unity of peers. Nor is it projected outward, showing dominance of a singular philosophy over others. Some other meaning… unity of purpose maybe.” He traced a finger over the two half crescents. “Odd. Normally crescents like this would be planets. Homeworlds. But it’s inverted. Not coming from but aimed towards. No species is born in space. Did they retake their own world?”

He frowned. These conjectures were as far as he could take it at the moment. An unknown weapon, an unknown species, and no name to place to either.

Once he knew what they called themselves he would have more to consider.

Okeer knew he was… odd by Krogan standards. Too thoughtful, too violent when he stopped thinking. He still kept his position as a Warlord by virtue of being right… and willing to kill anyone that looked ready to betray him first. Still many other Krogan thought he had peculiar interests and, quietly among themselves where they thought he could not hear, wondered how much of a Krogan he really was.

He felt differently of course. To be Krogan was to be strong, and what did it say if so many of his species settled for strength of arms or numbers? The mind could be a battlefield all its own after all. And while many may have forgotten the old stories of how the Krogan had almost got off their home planet before they’d blasted their civilization to rubble with atomic fire he had not.

They limited themselves to the roles that the Salarians had selected for them when they had been ‘uplifted.’ Not he. He read, he studied, and under an alias even published into a Salarian Xenobiology journal.

Not hard, given no one ever came to Tuchanka to find out that he’d killed the real Dr. Pearba Zer ten years ago.

“Sadly given Salarian lifespans I will have to assume a new identity for future publications. Shame, I rather enjoyed some of the correspondences I had.”

Chapter Text

A week into their voyage for places unknown and they had made only minor progress in learning to communicate. Luckily it wasn’t another Hanar contact, and the phonetic construction seemed superficially similar to Asari languages, but none of them were specialists in contact scenarios.

They still made a valiant effort after all. And it wasn’t like there was anything else to do.

The basics had come quickly enough. Numbers, shapes, simple concepts mapped quite well onto their own languages. And while their rescuers clearly had some unusual quirks they did pick things up with enough ease for them to try to explain where they had come from and, more importantly in Zelos’ opinion, where the Krogan would be coming from.

She didn’t have a good bead on their mannerisms yet, so she had to rely on them being honest to judge their reactions to all of this. Still, if they’d never been seen before they couldn’t have been in space for that long, and it was even possible that this was their first encounter with another space faring species. Which meant their home system and whatever colonies they might have established would be within a relatively short jaunt between relay lines.

Not a desirable outcome given the Krogan’s recent behavior. Nor how they had introduced themselves, not that Zelos wasn’t grateful for their unexpected salvation.

That was just the basics however. And while they’d been treated well, the simple fact was that they knew rather little about their rescuers.

And the more time they spent around them the more questions presented.

“I don’t think they eat,” Vokall said. Looking up from a meal of rations they’d brought in the pod. The aliens had been able to supply water and made an attempt at synthesizing a dietary supplement before they had communicated that they had enough food to survive the expected length of their current journey. “Or if they do it’s far too little for their body mass.”

“Yeah, they just drink water… though it could be treated with vitamins or something.” Rinasa looked over to where a couple of them sat. “And they do weigh a lot. I noticed when they pulled us out of the escape pod. At least twice what they should.”

“Yes, heavy cybernetic enhancement in these [YorHA].”

“Are you sure that’s the name? I thought it was [Androids]?”

“Perhaps one is a species name and the other informs their organization?”

“It doesn’t matter what they call themselves,” Zelos said, stopping yet another round of baseless speculation. “The diplomats can worry about that. What we need to care about is how we get this ship in touch with the Citadel as quickly as possible.”

“Well that could be difficult. We’re heading the wrong way after all.”

Zelos nodded. Feeling far less sure of herself and her place in the galaxy than she would have liked. The simple fact was that they were entirely at the mercy of their ‘rescuers.’ They couldn’t even be entirely sure that that word was the right one to use. Just because they looked like fuzzy pale Asari for the most part didn’t mean that their psychology was similar enough that concepts of charity would correspond cross-species. They might assume that their representative species would pay a ransom, or that saving them now meant that they worked for the alien organization that had rescued them.

Or maybe they’re not eating because they’re waiting to take us back to their home world to ritually eat us. Zelos leaned forward, massaging the edges of her ridges. Of all the dumb things to think of right now, she had to concoct the sort of absurd nonsense that filled the worst sort of novels and video dramas. I’m probably just jittery from our close call and trying to break down the language barrier. There’s probably nothing that odd about them.

“One weird thing I noticed,” Rinasa said, interrupting Zelos’ thoughts, “is that they weren’t nearly as upset as I would have figured for having one of their crew die. We all knew this was practically a suicide mission beforehand, but this is clearly a ship made for scouting and recon.”

“Perhaps they have a strong culture of militarized service and sacrifice to the state? Not unlike the Turians?” Vokall replied. “Is interesting if so, but I shouldn’t speculate without more information.”

“Yeah… that was a little weird.” Zelos looked over to where the leader of these aliens was seated. Considering her carefully. They hadn’t called it a ‘sacrifice’ or ‘a service.’ They just said not to worry about it… or something about it not being a ‘problem.’ Maybe they have strong religious tradition and believe in an afterlife?

“Regardless, I hope we can get someone more suitable to handle the contact scenario soon. This isn’t really what Special Tactics and Reconnaissance was assembled for.”

“Could be later,” said Vokall, tapping the table as he thought. A nervous twitch that the Salarian had developed at some point. “Our organization is quite young. If the Council keeps it around it might find new uses once the Krogan issue is dealt with.”

“Not likely. It will probably be shelved like plans for uplifting teams. Especially now that the Krogan have turned out the way they have.” Rinasa finished off her small meal and took a drink from the water their hosts had provided. “I doubt anyone is even going to remember our organization name as anything more than a trivia answer.”

“Maybe… but I suppose that will be up to our superiors to decide on.”

***

ONE WEEK LATER

“Do you realize what you’ve done?”

1D stood before the admiralty board. White flanked by her two technical colleagues and now rank equals. Caused by the needs brought about by YoRHa’s fast growing size and rapidly expanding operational mandate. Defending Earth from alien invaders had come to include defending Earth’s potential colonies, inner system stations, and mining operations. And with the Charon Relay active they now had the Survey and Recon Fleet going out to chart the nearby systems.

Simply put, it was too much for any one individual to run efficiently, and too much power for the various resistance armies turned nation actors to desire. They’d specifically chosen her fellow ‘admirals’ to allow for different viewpoints at YoRHa’s highest level.

Though it hadn’t turned out the way they’d probably expected. 3C, ‘Carmine’ as she’d renamed herself after her successful run, had managed to work her way into a position regulating fleet and resource movements around the Indian Ocean. The councilors that had selected her had probably expected that the redheaded ex-YoRHa would butt heads with White over most issues and hopefully supply a differing viewpoint.

They’d been wrong.

Not about her general temperament, if anything, she was more likely to question if White was making the right decisions for the Garrison Fleet. But surprisingly enough the very nature that had led her to run and to then hide in plain sight in a leadership role in a resistance force meant that she often agreed with White about the general, even if she would still argue over the particulars. The similarities in the two women’s temperaments had become something of a running joke among their subordinates.

Frankly 1D wished she were switched with the Commander of the Patrol Fleet. Whether it was simply greater age or living through the slaughter of the Atlantic theater during its heaviest years of casualties, Hake was considered far easier to get along with. He tended to be more personable while still being a strict commander. One that had come to understand how hard he could push the androids under his command, which was a good quality given the Patrol Fleet’s gradually increasing deployment times.

More ships would ameliorate that in time, but for the moment the fact that they were considering venturing outside of the Sol system to find more Element Zero meant that whatever they built would need a more ready and prepared response than relying on the light scouting vessels or an emergency response from Earth.

Not that that mattered right now. Carmine was still glaring down at her.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Ma’am, I felt that given the nature of the situation remaining uninvolved would be unacceptable.”

“Unacceptable?” Carmine’s eyes narrowed as she spat the word out. “I find it ‘unacceptable’ that you’ve embroiled us in a war between unknown alien races out of a misplaced sense of charity. You had no idea who was in the right or wrong of that conflict. How do you explain this lapse in judgment?”

“The alien’s have managed to communicate that it is a territorial dispute in which the… Krogan, are the aggressors.”

“And we trust their statements why?” White asked. Shaking her head slightly before continuing, “I don’t doubt that they painted a pathetic picture limping into view as they did, but they very well could be lying to us about the nature of this conflict.”

“They fired on the escape pods.” Hake’s intervention was welcomed, though 1D did not show it on her face. “That says something about these Krogan at least.”

Carmine said in response, “What, that they don’t take prisoners? We didn’t do anything of the sort ourselves.”

“But it’s completely different when you have clear superiority over your opponent. You can’t compare the Machine Wars to this.”

“We’re getting distracted here,” White said stopping the coming argument before it could truly begin. “The question we need to answer is what sort of disciplinary action should be taken in this case.”

“Suspension of commission status and consideration of revocation of current rank,” Carmine said, not hesitating to levy her judgment. “With the potential for more serious punishments if it is later revealed that we need to make some diplomatic overture to these Krogan in order to prevent outright war.”

“That’s far too serious. The entire point of choosing officers for the Recon Fleet is that they will have to make these sorts of decisions without a supervisor’s direct approval. We can’t cripple our subordinate’s ability to do their job by making them think that the only option they have is to defer them until it’s too late. Suspension of current commission while we review the incident and continue interviewing the aliens. And no more.”

White looked from Hake to Carmine before speaking. “I also agree to suspension pending a full investigation of this incident. Planning out greater punishments at this point is unnecessary. Any disagreements?”

If Carmine wanted to argue the point more she at least choose not to. 1D could already see her assignments taking a turn for the unpleasant. Worst of all transferring to another fleet would require her direct superior’s approval.

Which wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.

“Then it’s settled. Captain 1D, you are suspended from your current duty until we have fully investigated the incident. After your scheduled leave you will be assigned a new role in YoRHa. Pending that we find your judgment in this situation warranted your suspension will be lifted without penalty. Do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am,” 1D said.

***

ONE WEEK LATER

Like most small cafes it served an experience more than anything else. Light relaxing music with a lakeside view under shaded canvases. The staff consisted of a trio of androids, one female and two male. Far more than was necessary, especially with pair of civilian class support pods shuttling drink orders back and forth. Though 1D knew the real reason the entire staff had been assembled for single leisurely afternoon.

One of the aliens had been offered a tour, and as part of preparation and security those places that they would visit had been told before hand. They had quickly agreed, and wanting to make a good impression, had all their employees show up at once. Though with the entourage and their extraterrestrial guest now off somewhere else it had left them overstaffed for what costumers had remained. Even the pods were unusually uninterested in conversing with the androids seated at the tables. Likely whichever AI worked there, 1D couldn’t recollect their designation number at the moment, was instead spending its processing power and attention conversing with another pod system somewhere else.

Not that she cared much. She hadn’t come here for the service, but for the company.

“So you’re under suspension,” 2B said. Taking a sip from her pink and sweetened lemon flavored drink. “Can’t say I’m surprised, this is why I never re-enlisted.”

The Public Security officer was still in her uniform, though the adaptive VR mask they now used lay on the glass table in front of her. Since the alien guest had departed she was officially off duty after the flurry of activity that had preceded the scheduled visit.

1D quietly stared at her own drink which she had yet to try.

“So… I was surprised about the alien. The one I saw anyway. She almost looked like one of us,” 2B said. Pausing for moment before continuing, “It is a ‘she’ right? Nines is always going on about how tricky pronouns were across a xenolinguistic barrier.”

“Yeah, these ‘Asari’ seem to be all female. Or I guess some kind of hermaphrodites than? Either way they did their best to introduce us to the basic structure of the galaxy. Asari and Salarians… and the Krogan.”

2B reached across and touched the back of her hand. Drawing her attention before saying, “I don’t think you made the wrong call. At least based on what you knew at the time. You never did like seeing anyone get killed back then.”

“Not that I was very good at my job. You ended up going alone more often than not. Honestly I think you should have had on-site leader privileges before me.”

“I had other responsibilities,” 2B said. Quickly continuing, “So do they know we’re not…

“Human?” 1D finished for her. Wincing as she said the word. That alone wasn’t the issue of course. And it wouldn’t mean anything to the aliens either. “No… I mean, obviously not that. They’re all organic. With everything that means included. I don’t doubt they have suspicions though. It took us over ten days to return even rushing as we did.”

“Will that be a problem?”

“I don’t know. We only have three examples and what basic data they were able to supply. I… felt that it wouldn’t be helpful to force the issue while we were heading back to Earth. They might have done so since then. Has 9S mentioned anything? I know he’s considered something of an expert in alien system analysis.”

“No. He’s just been working on an active translation matrix. That or an installable language program. He says the first isn’t that hard. The second would require more work for obvious reasons.”

“Heh, I don’t envy the scanners and researchers. I never could wrap my mind around the tricks they do.”

“Same for me,” 2B said with a smile. “Nines has tried to explain it to me before but I don’t think I have the patience for it. Just give me a functioning anti-virus system and updated firewalls and I’m satisfied.”

1D nodded, finally taking a drink of her own beverage. Looking out of the cafe to see a shuttle craft coming in for landing at the spaceport on the other side of the city. Probably there to pick up their alien guest.

“So I haven’t been around lately, but I was wondering if they had made a decision about re-founding this city properly. I know when we first started rebuilding we didn’t think about it much.”

“You mean like with Paris and the Londons?”

“There’s still two of those? I thought they had figured out which one was the ‘real’ London?”

“They did but neither group was willing to budge. So now we have London and Neo-London. What,” said 2B, handing her empty glass to a pod that had finally floated over to them, “you want us to change the name to ‘Neo-Tokyo’ too?”

“Ugh. No that sounds awful. Maybe Tokyo-2… or 3? How many Tokyos were there anyway?”

“According to the archivists just the one. It’s actually kind of interesting. They put together a program about 21st century history recently. This region was the center of the incident that originally led to the end of-“

There came a sudden shrill sound from the com screens on standby and 2B’s own personal communication equipment. She donned her adaptive VR mask and went still. Not from working within internal menus and systems, but from shock at what she was seeing.

1D wasn’t left out of course, nor were the other patrons, the staff, or even the pod. They all saw the warning alert before them. An unknown alien vessel had jumped in from the Charon Relay and triggered the sensors nearby. The image was hardly the best resolution, but the appearance clear.

It was a Krogan ship.

Chapter Text

“So we’ve found them at last,” said Nakmor Revanor, Battlemaster of his clan and commander of the Krellux. The heavy warship now moving closer to the system’s star after they had made the jump to the relay orbiting the ninth most distant planet. “Good. I was afraid they might have lost us. Luckily for us these whelps left a trail of transmitting probes in the systems they visited.”

Though the encryption on the one we pulled aboard was unusually tough…

Revanor considered the issue. The ease at which they had located the probes showed that they either hadn’t been trying to hide them or were unused to the best means to do so. Limited signal connections or layering the Eezo core sending out the FTL communication signal to prevent detection. With such mistakes or oversights he would have expected a primitive system.

But instead it had been a work of art in terms of engineering craft and computer code. All for a glorified data buoy that would sit in a system to tell its creators about what happened there when they weren’t present. They either didn’t care about the cost associated with such a creation or didn’t realize their own skill set them apart.

Things like that and Warlord Okeer’s ‘advice’ about sending back their last coordinates each time they made a jump had put him on edge. That it was obviously the correct thing to do when tracking down an unknown alien vessel didn’t change how he felt about following orders from the eccentric Krogan. Okeer had even had the gall to suggest he merely scout out the unknown aliens instead of striking back for their interference and attack as they fled!

“Hollow humped fool,” he growled out low as he leaned back in his chair. As if he intended to let first blood in vengeance be taken by another! And against some newfound race that must have only recently left their home system.

Still he tried to think through his anger and irritation at missing an opportunity to take sole claim of victory for his clan. Something about these aliens sat wrong with him. Like a gnawing worm in his gut. Those fantastically well designed probes… and such a small under-powered ship. He hadn’t even seen a proper mass driver on it. And while the projectile they had fired had struck true, it had been relatively minor damage.

Why then did Okeer fall back? What did he see in them that I am missing?

He hadn’t recognized the small scout ship that had blazed past them along with the rescued survivors. Those data probes on the other had were as advanced as the finest combined stealth and communications buoy used by the Asari and Salarians for fleet communications. But instead sitting around dead worlds and monitoring atmosphere conditions. It painted an odd picture. Most species did not long linger in their home systems once they discovered Element Zero and the possibilities of FTL travel. The Batarians were a particularly apt example. They had taken to the stars in poorly shielded vessels that had used nuclear explosions against a shielding dish for acceleration, what little skill they had with the manipulation of mass effect properties limited to making their journeys through the stars possible within their own limited lifespans.

The Batarians had suffered greatly from it, or their slave caste at least. Radiation shielding had not been a great priority on their earliest colonization ships and many had died before they ever reached their destinations.

They are new to space, but show signs of an older race. What could have kept them on their homeworld for so long? Are they cowards? He dismissed that thought, teeth bared as he remembered their rescue attempt. A pity we were overeager and destroyed so many of the escape pods. It had been meant as a demonstration to cow the survivors into revealing their mission more easily under torture. Not to eliminate all of them.

It hardly mattered now. They had tracked the aliens down. That’s all that mattered.

“Should we return Battlemaster? We’ve tracked them to their home system or at least an important colony world going by the amount of communications chatter we’re finding.”

“And let someone else take the away our earned kill? No,” Revanor said, teeth bared and grinning with mad delight, “we should bloody them at least a bit to start with. That ship from before was an eighth our weight. In a straight fight we should be guaranteed at least a single kill. Perhaps two before our supply of missiles is depleted and we are forced to withdraw.”

“Battlemaster! We’re getting a signal from the inner system. They appear to be trying to communicate with us.”

Revanor looked to the Krogan tracking their communications, Chirloc, before saying, “Sure. Let’s hear what they have to say.”

The voice sounded female, though the language might have colored his judgment. Whoever they were was speaking the common dialect of Asari. Their pronunciation somewhat off, to the extent that he could name a dozen Krogan on board his own ship that could speak the language of those blue skinned biotics that effectively ran galactic society better.

“Attention nearing vessel. We are dangerous and do not wish approach. Withdraw beyond the relay and we will speak. Continue and we will stop you.”

There was a long moment of silence on the bridge of the Krellux. Till Revanor began to laugh, soon joined by his second in command Hakrax and followed by the other Krogan in earshot of the alien communication.

“Continue forward. Let’s see if they have the quad to back up their words.”

***

“Commander! The sensor buoys are continuing to receive data on the alien ship. It has passed within 30 AU and is continuing to approach. No response to the message thus far.”

“I see,” White said. Looking to one side where a floating holographic display showed an image of the command center on the Heimdall station. Her fellow admirals were staring back at her. “As acting senior authority within YoRHa I am prepared to assume full control over the defensive operation to either; destroy, capture, or force the withdrawal of the approaching alien vessel. Are there any objections?”

“None from me,” Hake said. “The patrol fleet’s assets, what of them there are, are at your disposal.”

Carmine looked mildly irritated, as if she was attempting to find a reason to object. Finally saying, “No objections Commander. Sadly there are only four recon ships in system and the Duban is still in dock undergoing necessary maintenance from its rushed retreat. So I have limited forces to offer to this operation.”

“Actually I was going to speak on that. Given the likelihood of heavier mass drivers on a ship of this size and an unknown quantity of fusion munitions on board the Krogan ship, giving them too many light targets might just give them the opportunity to notch up some kills before we take them down or they retreat.”

“Yes,” White said as she thought over what Hake had just said. “I see what you mean. And without a detailed scan of the ship in question we won’t be able to target those systems at long range with lasers, assuming we can cause enough damage at that distance anyway.”

“But if we send in a squadron or two of flight units on close approach instead…“

“They could provide too many targets for them to remove until they found and destroyed their weapon systems.”

“My thoughts as well. And the only way they can counter with a single ship like that would be to detonate their warheads right on top of themselves.”

“Thank you for your input Admiral Hake. I’ll have the flight squadrons on board the Siegfried prepare for immediate engagement.”

Even as she agreed to the plan White wasn’t entirely pleased with the cold calculus involved here. Throwing the entire garrison fleet and all other in system assets at once might result in less causalities. But the sad fact was that their old generation flight units were now far more expendable than Element Zero equipped ships, and assuming backups for the pilot all losses would be temporary. She had no intention of letting any pilots out that choose not to use backups for one reason or another on a mission like this. Not when the fundamental goal was to repel the Krogan with a minimal amount of actual losses.

Shame that the aliens couldn’t be of more help…

***

A few days earlier

“Apologies Commander White. We delete mission info for security before escape. Nothing to give now.”

The Salarian certainly sounded apologetic. Though she had no idea if his facial expressions meant that or not. She hoped that if he was lying to her he was at least making the effort to try. It would be insulting otherwise.

“I understand Vokall. Destruction of sensitive data only makes sense.”

Even if it’s going to make things harder for us. The aliens had had detailed schematics on Krogan warships. But all of that had been part of their mission intelligence, either obtained or given to them by their superiors. Letting the Krogan know how much they knew would be its own security risk. They’d purged their personal computers before they escaped and now they could only go off what they remembered. Which while enough to let a pilot potentially pick out likely targets at a range of a few hundred meters it would do little to aid in combating an aggressive warship at the distances at which ship to ship combat was likely to occur.

Vokall’s Asari superior spoke then. Pointing to the displayed image of these ‘Krogan,’ “I can still explain Krogan… mind. Might be useful.”

Noticing the frustration at picking out the correct word the Asari was having, White said, “Zelos, we’ve managed a rudimentary translation program. It might be better if you spoke your normal language for now.”

Zelos nodded, before continuing to speak. White trying not show the points of confusion when the translation gave conflicting responses to words it didn’t yet recognize in every possible use yet.

“Alright. Well the Krogan developed/evolved/began on a world with extreme environmental hazards. This led to both their incredible biological hardiness and enormous birthrate, when this was combined with advanced/evolved/transcendent weapons allowed them to destroy their own civilization and their planet’s skin/layers. Even after ending/destroying/reaping that reduced their world to radioactive ash they survived, if now a primitive shadow of what they were. Thus, to be Krogan is to be strong and to survive by being strong. If you are weaker than a Krogan they won’t listen to you and if you’re stronger they’ll want to find out how strong.”

“How do we convince the Krogan to retreat or surrender?

“If I knew that I’d be a very [UNINTELLIGIBLE] and could retire,” Zelos said. A surprisingly familiar expression of sad resignation on her face. “When we fought the Krogan we had to completely dominate them in order to convince them to stop fighting. Otherwise they’ll just keep at it even if they can’t win.”

***

Inside the Flight Hangers of the Siegfried, Near Mar’s orbit.

“Attention! You’ve already received a brief summary of your mission objectives, but I’m going over everything in person while we wait to see if these aliens are going to cross into the inner system.” She paused, turning to stand in front of her flight unit and look over the assembled squadrons that would be flying with her. The beginnings of a smile forming on her face, hidden by her helmet. “But before I do there’s one little thing I’d like to say.”

“You know me as Flight Captain Mosin, but during the war I was designated YoRHa Number 18 Model M. For Markswomen. And I had a dream from the very first day I held my 20 mm multi-range rifle. To look through my scope at the one of the alien bastards that invaded the Earth and paint the ground with their glowing green blood.”

“And yeah, I know, the aliens didn’t actually have glowing blood. Or look like little green men from the Old World films like I imagined they would. But that was still my dream back then! Back before a couple of pretty-boy assholes told a recon team that the aliens had been dead for thousands of years and the machines had beaten us to the punch. Not that I found out about that until the war was over anyway.”

“Now maybe these Krogan will pull back. Maybe they’ll just talk for a bit and before you know it we’ll be giving them tours too like those blue girls or the lizard looking guy. And if so that’s fine. Hell, probably preferable. We’re about to fly in from 20,000 km off at high speed into oncoming fire with long range laser support from the Siegfried. I’m not going to lie. Some of us aren’t going to fly back on our own and no matter what some of the vets might tell you, you don’t really get used to reactivating from a backup. You just learn to deal with it.”

“But if they push us, if we fly this mission… I want you all to keep in mind what this represents. The first defensive action by androids against an invading alien force in seven thousand years. Let’s make sure it’s one worth remembering.”

***

The Krellux had approached the fifth planet from the systems sun, a large gas giant with numerous moons. The hails growing more frequent, and the request for their retreat ever more insistent. Revanor wanted to see more from these aliens though. Anyone could open a communication channel and demand something after all.

The real question would be how they intended to back that up.

“Battlemaster! We are close enough to detect ships on active sensors. There are ten vessels of the size comparable to the ship we encountered before.”

“A full defense fleet?”

“They aren’t assembled as such yet, though they have moved into orbit around the most developed planet in the system. Three have moved away from the inner system and are within forty million kilometers. Of those three one is four times the average size of the others. Perhaps the flagship of the local fleet?”

Not enough to hold out for long… but more than sufficient to stop us if pressed. Revanor clenched his fist. He did not want to run from this chase, even if it was the sensible decision. But if they trapped them here...

“Don’t just keep active scans on the regions in front of us. I want to know the moment anything might be cutting off our retreat. If they try and box us in pull out immediately.”

“Of course Battlemaster,” Chirloc said, turning back to his console. “They’re sending a signal again. This time a laser comms channel using a mass effect system. Do you wish to respond? I think we can get both audio and visual now.”

“Do so, I wish to see the faces of those that would save the Council’s spies from Krogan justice.”

A display screen in front of them came on, the projected holographic screen showing a real time image from the alien command ship. Revanor was taken aback by the sight of the being in front of him. At first, before Chirloc had adjusted the signal he had been certain he was staring at an Asari. But as the image cleared up the differences mounted. The long, lightly colored fur on the beings head, braided with an ornamentation of metal poking through it. A similar design on their uniform, something that reminded him of those feathered lizards some Salarians kept as pets. If their expressions were similar to Asari he would say they were stern, staring him down and showing no fear in their eyes.

A respectable way to start, but with one who had not yet been tested by the might of the Krogan it was unearned.

“Are you the leader here?” Revanor asked, speaking the same dialect of Asari that the first communication had come in. “I am Battlemaster Nakmor Revanor.”

“Yes, I am the commander of the current mission. I am Commander White.” It wasn’t the voice from the earlier communications, but it had the same pronunciation issues. Something about their voice and mannerisms pegged them as a female, though Revanor did consider the possibility that they might not just look like an Asari but have similarly limited or unusual sexual dimorphism. Not that any of that mattered. They might be like the Salarians and their females held most of the higher ranks in their social order. “You have trespassed into our region of space. Please follow our instructions and leave if you wish to open lines of communication and avoid conflict with YoRha forces.”

“So you are new to space… not even versed in the tongue of the Asari. And yet you already serve their interests.”

“You are mistaken Battlemaster. We do not serve the Asari.”

“Ignorance is not an excuse. You saved spies and saboteurs that destroyed Krogan ships and killed many.”

“They claim that their actions are part of a war in which the Krogan claim planets that are not theirs.”

“Nonsense. None have claim to anything unless they have the strength to keep it,” Ravenor said loudly, boisterous pride in his voice. “Were it not for the might of the Krogan armies the Asari would not have kept those worlds in the first place.”

White’s eyes narrowed, a slight frown curving her lips downward. “I see. Regardless your wars are not our concern. If you wish some repayment for damages caused by the first contact incident we are willing to discuss that. But not so long as you invade our space.”

“You think to drive us off? You have many ships, but numbers are not everything.”

“I intend to remove you, yes,” White said. “Whether you leave or die here is up to you.”

“If you want us to leave we will. Just hand over what you took.”

“What do you mean?”

Revanor’s malicious grin showed teeth as he leaned forward. “Those in the escape pod. There must have been at least one Asari. You don’t speak their language well enough not to have just started learning it. Send them over and we shall leave to discuss what payment your interference should cost later.”

“That is unacceptable. This is our territory and we will not hand over anyone without more proof of their crime and the justness of your own war.”

“More proof than the word of a Krogan?” Revanor let out a low chuckle as he shook his head. “Then you truly are idiots and fools. And a ‘just’ war? All wars of the Krogan are just! Whether to conquer or merely exterminate… ‘justice’ is the right of the strong. We will show you that when I return at the head of a fleet and rain fire on that world your ships cloister around. That will be your just reward for denying the will of the Krogan!”

Her expression broke, the stern look giving way to a cold fury. She must have stood up as the image adjusted to show her motion. “We are done speaking. Leave now or face the consequences. This is your last warning.”

The signal cut off.

“… Battlemaster? Those ships are approaching us now. What are your orders?”

Revanor leaned back, considering his options. He couldn’t win this fight, not really. But it offended him to leave now, not even firing on these new enemies of the Krogan.

“Stay our course. As soon as we trade for what they gave us before, whether it kills or damages another ship, be prepared to leave. We may not destroy one of their ships but we can at least leave a reminder of what will come for them now that the Krogan know where they are.”

***

“Begin acceleration!”

The sudden jolt of their increasing velocity rocketed them away from the Siegfried. Thirty-six engine sets burning brightly as a retreating constellation. Holding formation as their engines continued to increase in output. Up to the very limits of functionality, their vision slightly distorted.

“Ignore the warnings, and prepare for high velocity evasion. Rely on network information to avoid incoming fire. You don’t want to be hit by our own ships.”

“Confirmed Captain.”

Though even at a sustained acceleration of nearly seventy gravities they were still able to control their flight units. If not comfortably, they were at the border of what could be considered ‘safe’ even for androids modified for combat, or at least when they had to do more than just not suffer too much internal damage while riding the fuel guzzling engines which propelled them.

Faster and faster towards the approaching Krogan vessel.

“This is Operator 13O. Be prepared for incoming fire. We’ve detected increasing thermal readings along the lower section of the enemy ship. Prepare for incoming relativistic projectiles.”

A moment later a flash of light, formed by the interaction of the flight units barrier screen trying, and failing, to stop a incoming projectile with far greater energies than it had ever been designed for. A second projectile hit before the debris from the first had even stopped glowing.

“Link your navigation to randomized pattern. Have your pods forward it back so we don’t get hit by our own ships,” Mosin yelled out. Pulling up and to the side. Their forward acceleration now stopped, coasting forward at tremendous speed while dodging long range laser shots from behind them. “When we get into an optimum firing range target the main guns first.”

A digitized voice came over their comms, echoed by each pod in turn.

*Warning! Incoming missiles. Advise transferring program energy to EM shielding and barriers.*

They followed the pod’s recommendation, and held on. They didn’t have enough time to decelerate or to maneuver out of the way of the incoming missiles. Their safety relied entirely on the support fire coming from behind being able to disable or prematurely detonate the warheads a safe distance from themselves.

The long range lasers struck again and again on the fast approaching rockets. Repeatedly striking the forward section, till at last there was a great flash of light. The other four missiles captured in the blast of the first. Even with their defenses raised they felt the unnatural grainy disconnect as the wake of the explosion past them. More support fire passing through their formation as they drew ever closer. The explosion and their own evasive motions keeping them safe from the Krogan’s guns.

Till at last they were in range.

Fully half of them fired directly onto the main gun. A barrage of close range lasers gouging deeply into the sensitive structure. Secondary detonations registered, showing that they had crippled the main weapon.

The other flight units provided a distraction, barriers surrounding them while they rained down a flurry of light fire. Even with their near massless projectiles hammering onto the Krogan ship, the relatively low energy would take forever to penetrate the heavy armor of the Krogan warship.

But it would certainly make the Krogan reconsider their decision.

“Full burn! Decelerate and bring us around to begin close range engagement!”

This time they were well beyond the safety limits. Lines of broken static scarred their vision as they had to rely more on the pre-programmed systems than their own active piloting. But ultimately they came around to match the Krogan’s own speed.

Partly because they had turned to retreat.

But not without further aggression.

“Captain! They’re planning to fire another missile salvo,” said one of the pilots performing scans on the now damaged ship.

“Target the missile tubes. Destroy anything and everything that could be used to attack.”

With the missile system located they shifted into bipedal assault mode and focused fire on the aperture through which the missiles would be launched. Projectiles, lasers, and missiles passed through the kinetic barrier with varying levels of ease, and blasted both armor and more necessary components into debris. The pounding onslaught continued till they were sure they had destroyed the missile system.

And then followed by a secondary explosion as something important inside the Krogan ship detonated as well.

The engines of the ship sputtering to a stop as the vessel went dead. Drifting forward as the android ships now approached the disabled ship.

Chapter Text

The monitors flickered on, dozens of warnings displayed. Easier to count the systems that weren’t damaged than those that were. Their warship crippled by nothing more than a few dozen small fighter craft. And that was hardly the worst of it.

They had intercepted the spread of missiles launched with accurate mid-range lasers. While they remained at the edge of the alien, the ‘YoRHa’, warships for the moment, that would not last. Not that they would be able to tell until they were right on top of them. Both active and passive scanning equipment had been scrapped by the fighter’s accurate laser fire. That and whatever exotic projectiles they had been firing.

Their weapons were barely affected by kinetic barriers, as if most of the mass wasn’t there, Revanor thought, coming to stand and look about his now panicked command crew. They had not expected such a pitiful force to inflict anything close to this much damage. Their retreating attempt to fire a volley had in turn ended with an interior detonation. Obviously of just fuel, seeing as how their ship wasn’t a cloud of debris, but that had left a deck aflame, dozens of Krogan dead or injured, and their engine core forced to undergo immediate shutdown as it had showed instabilities.

It would take hours just to get full measure of the damages, and he honestly didn’t yet know if they could repair their engines with the supplies on board, let alone when that might happen. And with the damage to their sensors they wouldn’t even be able to tell how far the enemy ships were.

Simply put it was hard to imagine a more awful situation.

“Battlemaster! There’s something wrong with our internal comms… they’re hacking into our systems!”

Revanor spun around to face the Krogan that had been receiving ship wide damage reports. Chirloc now had an expression of confused fear on his young face. Not even lightly scarred. He’d either been lucky or skilled during his Rite. Either way the terror in his eyes was real now, a confrontation with danger far greater than any he or even the more seasoned crew had ever faced before. This was far beyond what they had expected. I’ve led them into some uncharted region of space and now we’re drifting, no way to fight back or to run. Facing down aliens that outnumber us and use weapons we have no countermeasure for!

“Stay calm! All of you we can still-“

“Attention Krogan. Your ship is damaged and you cannot run. Surrender now and we will care for your survivors.”

“They’re… they’re broadcasting throughout the entire ship using our own comms!”

“Shut it off! Kill the system directly if you have too,” Revanor roared out as he slammed the butt of his gun upon the console. Cracking the panel but not stopping the transmission. His eyes widening in sudden realization as he turned to the rest of the bridge crew. “Kill anything wireless! Anything and everything that transmits by any networked signals. Reboot the computer while you’re at it and lock the primary systems down. I don’t want them shutting gravity off or turning off the vacuum seals on de-pressurized sections.”

Despite their frantic efforts, the alien transmission continued, the female voice from the first transmission speaking clearly out of every ship speaker.

“If you choose to fight you will be meet with equal force until defeat.”

***

As the communication channel cut off, the operator manning the system looked up to Commander White. Who nodded briefly as she turned her attention to the image of the damaged Krogan ship again. They were closing in, three ships in total. With their individual flight units, and now likely boarding crews, awaiting their orders. They’d known beforehand that this was a likely outcome. Still she was happy that the causalities had been so low.

“Admiral Hake, are any of the alien visitors willing to be taken here? As it now stands I doubt the Krogan have the means to directly threaten our ships but placing non-YoRHa within an active hostile alien encounter zone is against protocols.”

Hake paused, surprised by White’s question. Though realization came quickly as he said, “I see… we might have wounded Krogan captured. Assuming they don’t scuttle their own ship, we definitely will. I’ll have a request made for their assistance and prepare a shuttle and ship to take them from Heimdall. They’ll probably be quite helpful once we finish securing the Krogan and their ship.”

“You understand my concerns. Even with the information they’ve provided, trying to render medical care to completely unknown organic beings will be hard enough. Plus I want to have them on hand to offer advice on Krogan behavior once the first interrogations begin.”

“You can’t trust them to do that,” Admiral Carmine said. “We barely know anything about these aliens yet. Language and what could be falsified cultural information. They might even have purposely tailored their stories to acquire our aid.”

“In just a few weeks? And from how we found them? You’re too paranoid Carmine.”

“I agree with her Hake,” White said, “at least in part. This will also be a test for them. If they try to purposely sabotage our efforts or we notice errors in their stories and the Krogan’s I want to be able to collect that data first hand. Of course that means we need the ship intact and as many of the Krogan alive as possible.”

There was a long pause as what White said sunk in.

“I’m not sure that’s wise Commander. A boarding action, especially one like this, could easily turn quite deadly. We have no idea what common tactics are or the weapons the Krogan might use. Like Admiral Carmine mentioned, we only have the alien’s word to go on.”

“You didn’t work with YoRHa during the wars Hake. I did,” Carmine replied, a slight smile briefly curving her lips at the memory. “Before I ran anyway. Even non-combat focused models like myself should be more than a match for the estimated strengths of these Krogan. A proper combat model should be able to take odds of at least ten to one easily. Even greater in more equitable terrain.”

White nodded gravely, glancing to the side as the pilots came into the docking bay for their next briefing and a change of gear. “That is a concern Admiral Carmine. The Krogan will have an advantage knowing the makeup of their ship. And the longer we take the more time is provided for them to prepare countermeasures. Though not being aware of whom they’re fighting it is likely most of those will prove… less than effective.”

Hake had been convinced, but remained concerned. “We’ll have the same problem. Not killing them obviously, but not killing them. We don’t really have stun weapons designed for organics, we have no idea what the bio-chemistry is for a Krogan to make a tranquilizer or chemical suppressant. How do you propose we take them alive?”

“I’ve already thought of that. Luckily I know how the Public Security forces handle their harder cases.”

***

The flight units had been parked along the sides of the bay, and now their pilots and an additional squad stood at the ready. A pair of networked support pods transferring audio and visual to the other two ships. Captain Mosin stood before the assembled team of eighteen and additional twelve watching by the pods transmission.

“Now I’m sure some of you are pissed about the pilots who got shot during the approach. But they’re going to be fine. No one went into this mission without backups. Mind you they aren’t reactivated yet and won’t be on active duty till the required forty-eight hour observation period passes.”

Mosin decided now was not the time to state her opinion on such new regulations. She supposed it was preferable to going from combat, to death, to combat and death again in a single day. Even if it toughened some androids up, there was no denying that it had played hell on morale during causality heavy operations during the war.

“I’m reminding you of this fact since we’re supposed to take the ship intact and the crew alive. Or at least as many as we can. Maybe they’ll be smart and give up. Or too many wounded from the internal detonation to try and fight us off. But if not we’ll be using a modified Public Security suppression tactic. Obviously no low power EMP guns or hacker support. Won’t do any good against organics.”

She reached down, pulling a grey metallic hexagon, only a little more than a centimeter thick, rather wide, and with a large circular hole in the middle.

“Alright, now I’m sure none of you have ever had the misfortune of running into Public Security and resisting arrest. But if you had you might have ended up finding out how these work. Basically they use extremely simple limited NFCS. They affect each other and nothing else.” Mosin opened them up and quickly snapped one on each wrist. They glowed slightly along the inside and hung there without moving up or down. “Now with them registered to a local support pod system all you have to do is give the command.”

Mosin held her arms out in front of her, about half a meter apart.

“Lock.”

And they snapped together, the two cuffs now showing the light halos of NFCS. Despite some attempts to pull her arms apart, they refused to do so.

“Unlock,” Mosin said. Her arms free, she pulled the cuffs off and dropped them onto the pile beside her. “They’re built to match the amount of strength a combat model can mount from poor leverage. Or the estimated limit anyway. Don’t take this as a challenge though. You’ll either break them or you’ll dislocate your own joints. Either way I doubt the Krogan will be able to break them with their own strength. They aren’t hard to hack, but that isn’t going to be a problem either.”

A few of the soldiers stifled their laughter. They’d had rather little trouble infiltrating the primary shipboard communications systems of the Krogan vessel. Their electronic defenses were not nearly reactive enough to present a significant obstacle and only unfamiliarity of core systems and the capacity and willingness of the Krogan to physically shut down all networked controls kept them from seizing root access to all active systems.

Counter-hacking defenses weren’t likely to be an issue for this operation.

“Now the basic organization will be in three unit teams with an individual support pod attached to each. Like what we used for assaulting fortified machine lifeform positions. One will handle defense, raising a barrier program by working with the pod and also providing fire support, medical aid, and communications with Command as needed. Do not neglect the first part of your job. The enemy will be using hypervelocity weapons. You won’t be able to deflect or dodge attacks at that speed unless you started before they fired. And those little near-relativistic projectiles will shred through your skin and armor if you let them tag you. They probably won’t shoot anything that could punch through their own ship, but a dedicated Element Zero anti-material rifle might only need one good shot to kill or disable. So don’t get cocky out there.”

“The other two will be equipped for multi-range and close combat engagement respectively. The standard YoRHa battle rifle is out of date, but should shoot through the alien’s kinetic shielding as long as you use generated slugs. Sadly Krogan are supposedly quite tough and likely to be wearing heavy armor from our reports. So this will be mostly to keep them pinned down with suppressing fire. This will allow for close combat engagement. Prioritize your own safety in neutralizing threats, but once the Krogan are disabled use the binding manacles to restrain them.”

“And one final note; did you all memorize your alien surrender demand?”

Over a dozen voices responded as one, stilted perhaps, but clearly articulate despite the foreign tongue they spoke. “Surrender now or we will use force.”

“Good.” Mosin stepped down, putting her helmet back. “Now get suited up. We’re moving out as soon as Command gives us the order.”

***

The hurried rush of the Krogan from one damaged section to another, still bombarded by the repeated requests to surrender from their own comms, left them in a barely able to conceive of a plan for defense, let alone implement it. The number of already injured as well as those striving to prevent further damages while switching system after system to onsite manual control had gutted the planned boarding defenses. What of them there were. Revanor hadn’t gotten his command nor this ship for his rigorous training or strict discipline. And it showed.

Thus it came as a rather little surprise that their troops were so strained only one noticed the airlock cycling open on its own in passing. The Krogan that had seen the lights flash from red to green as the compromised system opened up using his short range radio to call for help, and then just bellowing out down the halls.

A pair of Krogan had just turned to begin racing towards him when the doors opened.

What happened next was a blur of motion, momentum, and pain.

He moved-was moved, forward with great force. His rifle, not yet pointed towards the door as he’d only seen it open from the side of his eye, wrested from his grip with enough strength that the sharp pain of strained or fractured finger suddenly told him that one of the aliens had grabbed his arm at some point. He only saw the ceiling flying past him, the red lights blurring together as his head hit the back wall. He felt his arms pulled together and held there as one of the aliens said ‘[Lock].’

Followed by his legs a moment later.

“Surrender now or we will use force,” one of them said, the Asari dialect understandable by their translators. Their response was the report of the Krogan weapons.

A moment later two cries of pain, guttural and deep came from down the hall. And soon another bound Krogan, seemingly unconscious and bleeding from what looked to be a blow to the jaw that had fractured it and caused a concussion strong enough to leave him stunned, was deposited near the airlock.

More and more of the aliens, suited in black close fitting armor with blue and gold insignias, continued to pour through the airlock. Setting up a defensive perimeter around their entrance and eventual exit.

They spoke briefly among themselves, already prepared to separate into different teams to take the bridge, engine room, and to search the ship section by section for other crew.

The stunning fact was the speed at which that operation moved. At a single unseen motion half a dozen of them blitzed passed his prone form, blurs of motion as they moved to a place of cover further down the hall and checking for any signs of motion.

Even with nothing to do but watch them move, he could still barely keep track of them.

***

The door slammed shut behind him. Followed by the sound of the present he’d left for their alien guests a moment later. The muffled explosion of the grenades hopefully damaging the door controls enough that they couldn’t hack them open.

Drack had already seen how quickly they tore through lines of defense. Luckily he and the rest of his squad had been coming up from the garrison, fully loaded and ready to meet the boarding party when they ran into them. Unfortunately that hadn’t worked well. Even though the aliens didn’t seem to have kinetic barriers on them, either their armor or their hide was tough enough that low power shots weren’t that effective. And they were just too damn fast to sustain a bead on them long enough to wear them down.

Like a varren drugged out on combat stims. His squad leader had managed to surprise one of them by taking a blade through the chest and still firing his weapon in return. But despite what should have been a grievous injury they’d survived to hobble back behind the lines of defense, generated by some short-lived but repeatedly generated biotic shield he wasn’t familiar with.

Not before swinging their sword with enough force to cut the full grown Krogan in half though, straight through his armor, leaving both smoking blood and the suit itself glowing at where the cut had been made. However their blades worked, it was clear that it went beyond just being sharp.

Though why they needed it, he couldn’t guess. They were fast enough to weave through cones of fire before one could adjust their aim, tough enough to walk off a burst to the gut and keep standing even as their own blood spilled out from the injury, and strong enough to lift a Krogan by one hand and toss them into a bulkhead at the end of their charge.

“At least explosives worked,” he muttered to himself, pulling another one out of his satchel. He’d managed to blow one of their legs off while they’d been distracted with a pair of Krogan that had flanked them in the mess area. It had taken someone’s varren as well, but Drack had never liked the creature much so he counted that as a bonus. Even then, they weren’t dead. Missing half a leg and they still crawled into cover…

Plus, he could have sworn the destroyed limb had looked wrong. But in the panic, the low emergency lighting, and the constant retreat from the pursuing aliens, he couldn’t really be sure.

The door behind him buckled a glowing knife edge piercing through the metal. Even if his explosive retreat had damaged the controls they were more than ready to just cut through the barrier. Luckily he had some time before they got through.

Or so he had thought.

Drack fell low and ducked, almost on instinct as the door began to glow. A radiating beam of heat flung bits of molten metal away as three focused laser weapons from the alien’s floating mechanical platforms tore through the door and continued down the length of the hallway. Carving ugly wounds into the ship, pipes bursting and sparks showering from mechanical damage.

Well, this is it then, Drack thought. Looking at the grenade in his hand as he armed it. Before a knee slammed into his jaw, he went falling onto his back, and another hand grasped his own. He saw a kaleidoscope of color through the pain, and heard the muffled, distant, demand to surrender as they pulled the grenade from him and tossed it away. Moments later he was bound and tossed into a heap further back.

A humiliating end to what he had intended to be his final stand.

***

Revanor stood at the bridge, his ship all but taken. Short range radio had been compromised once the aliens boarded. With the comms useless, and silenced after he’d physically destroyed each and every speaker on the bridge, they had no way to communicate with the rest of the crew. Given the extreme speed at which he’d lost control of the ship once the boarding action began, the six Krogan beside him were likely the only ones left alive at this point.

Can’t even scuttle the ship now. We had to kill every networked control leading out from the bridge. Unless they’re smart enough to do it on their own…

He shook his head, dismissing the gnawing worry in his hump. If they hadn’t already ruptured the core and taken them all down then the aliens had probably secured the engine room before they’d had time to even realize how serious their situation was. He supposed it wasn’t as depressing a failure as the Krogan forces the Asari had captured, but it still grated on him that his death would be an inglorious one such as this. Simply trying to hand out some small measure of repayment for the deaths of his crew and these alien’s interference in the Krogan’s war.

“Damn you Okeer.” The Krogan Warlord had known! He’d guessed rightly that there was something odd about these new aliens and had led Revanor on to be the test of their military strength. In his defeat another would come, more prepared, with more ships and men. But he would have died as merely a calculated sacrifice…

The rage filled him the more he thought about it. Near blinding, and his hands glowed a darker blue. Biotic powers triggering at his strong emotional reaction.

It was a testament to what little self-control he had that when the doors to the bridge opened, once more hacked by these aliens and their devilish mastery of electronic warfare, he did not charge immediately. Raising a hand to tell his men to hold their fire.

They were matched in numbers, but with the shimmering shields projected by one of the support pods and another waiting in standby the aliens knew that the Krogan would be no threat. Anything that could punch through that would also breach the hull and likely kill the entire bridge crew as a side effect.

One of them stepped forward, standing just at the edge of the barrier. They said, “Surrender now or we will use force.”

“Surrender… surrender? Do you think so little of the pride of the Krogan, of Clan Nakmor, that we will simply kneel before you just like that? We are but the first of many, and you will not stand before the Krogan. Like the Rachni before, you will be crushed by the might of the Krogan!” Revanor yelled out his words, screaming them at the aliens before him. It was only that he approached unarmed that kept them from opening fire in his wild motions. But they showed no response, no recognition that they even understood him. “Do you hear me! You ‘YoRHa!’ You will regret this!”

*Apologies: The [androids] you are speaking to do not have translation software installed. If you wish to discuss the terms of your surrender I can attempt to provide translation.*

Revanor turned his gaze to the small floating box beside what he had surmised to be the alien commander. As the words in the Asari dialect were spoken he felt his rage only double. Not only will they have me surrender to them, but they wish for me to do it to a mere machine?

“No… no, I think I can communicate just fine without your help,” Revanor growled out, summoning his biotic powers. Clearing his mind of nothing but the hate and focusing it directly on the one before him. He would die here, that was certain, but he would show them how a Battlemaster does so!

He pulled her towards him, through their barrier and into the air. Their alien weapons fired, passing through his kinetic barrier but not the shield of biotic energy he had raised. Without ground to move on and tumbling through the air the alien’s strength and speed were useless. He could have told his men to open fire, but they were afraid to do so while he was so close.

Cowards. We will all die together here. Hold nothing back, Revanor thought as he brought his full might upon the body hurtling towards him. A tearing pain of overdrawing his biotic gift making his mind tremble and time seem to slow down as colors other than a hazy grey bled away from the world. He detonated the biotic warp into the alien’s midsection, and saw her fly backwards, a doll with its strings cut.

“Come Krogan of Clan Nakmor! Show these-“

“[Fire… laser…]”

Revanor never saw it hit. He felt the burning heat for a moment before nothing. The beam borrowing a hole through his upper chest and continuing on. The command chair, the consoles, and finally the bridge’s left window buckling and breaking. The roar of decompression filled the bridge before the blast shields could close automatically, Revanor’s body toppling to the side, nearly cut in half.

The alien he had damaged still stood. Her left hand tightly holding a blade that had sunk into the wall as she flew backwards. A long line cut into the metal from where she had been thrown, sparking along parts and glowing in others even as she dragged herself up to stand. Her right side had pulped inward in places and her arm hung limp. She pulled the sword free from the wall, a sound of metal on metal loudly echoing from the effort, and pointing it towards the six remaining Krogan. Some of which were staring in bewildered awe at the weapon discharge that had drilled a hole through their Battlemaster and everything behind him.

“S-surren-der n-now or we… we will use f-force!”

Her voice was wrong now, distorted like a speaker held too close to a magnet or some battery operated device on its last legs. Combined with the wound she had been stricken with, and the light cast by their commander’s still smoldering corpse, it made the experience seem unreal. As if an ancient spirit of the vengeful dead had clawed its way up from the Graves to drag them down.

One by one they dropped their weapons. There was no sense dying against an enemy they couldn’t even kill.

Chapter Text

She could hardly pry her eyes away from the small window in the shuttle. The scene outside, the Krogan ship listlessly drifting as the piloted combat frames of the YoRHa forces corrected its momentum while four far smaller ships encircled it. None of them showed damages from the combat and the comments of her guides they had received negligible causalities in stopping the Krogan. All in all a stunning victory, and one which they had every right to feel proud of.

Though, Zelos had to remind herself that while this was impressive it was still only one ship. And any Krogan foolish enough to face down such steep odds clearly cared too much about their standing amongst competing Krogan clans. This is impressive but nothing a comparable Asari fleet couldn’t have done on their own. If this is their only world and these ships most of what they can muster they will need support from the Asari or the Salarians.

She could only hope said contact could be made soon. Disabling a single Krogan warship was a far cry from stopping a full fleet. If she and the others of her team hadn’t so crippled the Krogan shipyards theere would have been five ships for this one, and that might have been enough to crush the dozen smaller vessels she’d counted from the arboretum aboard Heimdall. The destruction that would have followed from the victorious Krogan achieving orbital supremacy would have been a poor reward for their savior’s kindness.

Her earlier worries about the level of charity they were receiving had proven to be misplaced. While they had been questioned it had not turned into an outright interrogation over state secrets nor had she found herself placed under the kind of paranoia that she would have expected from a first contact scenario. Especially one where the potentially hostile nature of the galaxy had been displayed and she and her companions were in a position of weakness.

It almost seemed like their rescuers had had earlier contacts. But they’d been perfectly willing to say when they had discovered mass effect properties and ventured outside their solar system. The dates made sense given both scale of the space borne assets they’d seen and how they’d had to go all the way back to their home world in order to resupply after their rescue.

It’s probably part of their cultural development. Whatever caused all those ruins, Zelos thought as she sat back, the shuttle coming in to land at last. Vokall had noticed them first, pointing out that the number of decorative paintings depicting cityscapes in states of disrepair had been too numerous and differing in styles to be the product of a single artist. Once they’d translated the names on them and asked for more information the truth had come out. Though they’d been quite hesitant to give us even such limited access to historical documents… as if they were afraid we would notice something?

At first she had thought that it might have been a self-inflicted armageddon, similar to what the Krogan had done to themselves. But Rinasa had pointed out that if that were so wouldn’t they have been more like the Krogan? They’d tossed around ideas for hours, trying to decide what it was that their alien benefactors didn’t want to admit to. An intense solar flare or gamma ray event that had destroyed their technology and most the planet’s population? Green house effects or pollution related issues had been dismissed as the world was in too good of a condition for either to have reached apocalyptic levels in the last ten thousand years. They’d even wondered if it could have been a small meteor impact and ensuing global flood given their planet’s significant water coverage.

Vokall had come up with even more bizarre theories, based on all sorts of fanciful interpretations of observed data, though neither of his Asari comrades felt the need to humor his wilder speculations. Likely the real reason their rescuers were so unwilling to discuss the matter openly was that it would mean admitting the low population and relative position of weakness they were in against larger, more established interstellar powers.

No matter how charitable or generous they might feel inclined to be to strangers, they still have to consider their own safety. If Thessia had been devastated by disaster several thousand years ago, leaving them with only a fraction of their people and surrounded by the depopulated ruins of their own civilization, she doubted that she would have been keen on explaining how that had come to be. Even if it had been nothing more than the misfortune of a comet impacting into the seas, retelling such an enormous tragedy would never be a story she would want to use to introduce herself to another species.

Still, the discussion had just started again, the visit to the planet’s surface and seeing the large extent of ruined buildings up close when the call of alarm had sounded. And when she had been told that the Krogan had sent a warship through, she had feared that these people would soon be visited by another calamity. Sadly one directed with purpose and vindictive rage behind it.

But all of Zelos’s worry evaporated by what she saw when she stepped out of the shuttle. Krogan. Dozens of them. Over sixty in total, in varying states of health with most of them bound by some sort of magnetic restraints with odd glowing lights to signify that they were on. When they had said they’d ‘stopped’ the Krogan I thought they meant the ship! It’s only been a few hours since the alarm went off that a ship had even entered this system. Did they already board and secure the entire ship as well?

This was unprecedented. Zelos would have had to assault a Krogan warship of that size with at least four dozen commandos. Even than she’d probably have wanted half-again that number to ensure success. But they would have slaughtered the Krogan and taken some losses for their trouble. To do this! To take close to two thirds of the ship alive, if heavily injured?

She wasn’t sure that was possible at all, not without trying to flood the ship with something and hope to smoke the Krogan out. But such tactics would have taken several hours, while this operation must have concluded in minutes once it began! It… it was preposterous!

But the evidence is right in front of me. Bleeding, bound, and defeated utterly. Unless the Krogan had all surrendered? Zelos shook her head. No, not so quickly. Even a Krogan commander wise enough to realize their position would have likely held out longer just to be stubborn. And if so… some of these wounds were made by blades.

Zelos glanced to the side at the guards around her. She’d noticed how common long swords and various bladed weapons seemed to be among the forces called ‘YoRHa’ but this was the first time she’d seen them in use near a combat zone. On some of the soldiers they were secured in scabbards as she would have expected. But on others they floated, suspended by glowing halos of light. One even had a pair of weapons doing so, though most had but one. The guards that had disembarked with her each had one, encircled by a band of light in addition to the rifle at their sides. They had already moved to join their comrades, speaking as to their next orders and where they would be needed in the alien language Zelos had barely achieved some proficiency in.

*Greetings Asari Zelos Jinute. I am Pod 551. I have been sent to escort you to the Commander of this vessel. Please acknowledge that you understand my statement.*

“Uh… yes?” she replied, not sure what the floating drone wanted from her exactly. Surprised for moment that it had been sent by itself to lead her away. “Is there some reason you were sent?”

*Acknowledgement confirmed. Thank you for clarifying that my translation software is working correctly. As to your question; yes, given the number Krogan prisoners and the continued efforts to limit damages to the captured ship a support pod was all that could be spared. Please follow me.*

Soon they had left the landing bay and the crowd of Krogan. Not quickly enough in her mind. Despite being bound and under even more guards now that her escorts had joined the rest watching over them she had been the recipient of no small number of angry glares from them. A few of the more wounded, and probably delirious from pain, had even tried to push away the YoRHa attempting to tend to their wounds. Likely just so as not to show weakness before one of the Asari they had set out to kill or capture so many weeks ago now.

She let out a sigh of relief once that had left. Even bound and defeated many of the Krogan had been obstinate in admitting such and continued to try and threaten the YoRHa forces. For all the good it would do when none of them could understand a word. Added to that the smell of blood, and in some cases, scorched flesh from the wounded and she had little desire to stay. Continuing down the hall, she thought, They should have mentioned the prisoners more explicitly. Rinasa and Vokall might know more about Krogan biology if they’re trying to treat the wounded.

They arrived at door a little ways down from where they arrived. The pod floated on before her while Zelos came to sudden stop. The occupants were too busy to notice her. They had the wounded to concern themselves with.

Such as one woman, whose left leg had been blown off. Though she seemed one of the least concerned, smiling as she chatted with the doctor, even as they pulled bits of twisted metal and broken cable out form the stump. Another pod attentively poked and prodded at the wound while her replacement leg sat on a rolling cart. Another doctor (cyborg specialist?) was making adjustments to it.

Of course she had noticed that they must have had a very high level of cybridization in their military. Little things like their diet, or lack of one, or how there didn’t seem to be anyone too old.

Or too young… there weren’t any children either. That could have been a societal rule of course. But to have no sign of infirmity or age anywhere?

It set Zelos on edge, the unstated truth behind their host’s lie of omission filling her with new worries and concerns. What could be so strange, so terrible or awkward to explain, that they hadn’t even tried yet?

The answer lay before her now. The lie torn away at last, revealing stained metal and too smooth too symmetrical internal parts. The amount of red blood… oil… fluid that dripped from her injuries was concerning. And the way that they rushed about Zelos could tell that this one’s condition was far from stable. The twisted damage looked like what would have been done by a biotic attack tearing some metal construct apart. They’d pulled some organs free, replacements at the ready. The cables, tubes, and wires pulled from the damaged parts and installed onto the new ones.

But it was clear that they were fighting a losing battle.

And so they wheeled over a new one. The face, the hair… it looked identical to one on the table. Another body, another copy of the flesh.

No… this explains it all. They aren’t flesh and blood. Or not as we would think it.

A technician held her hand, seeming to be asking some question. Whatever was said in return was acknowledgement enough. They signaled to the pods working with them, and the injured, the dying, went still. While the yet unmoving replacement now became the subject to their flurry of activity. Moments later it-she moved. And surrounded by floating holographic diagnostic screens and concerned staff they moved her away from her own corpse.

Zelos had not been alone in observing this. Just to the side of the operating table White had stood. It hadn’t even been a full minute since the door opened, and the pods unhurried movement had just taken it to the acting Commander of the Seigfried and Garrison Fleet Admiral of YoRHa. The look on her face…

It was arrogant to assume that the similarities in facial structure and appearance meant that they shared emotional cues and reactions, but it looked like complete surprise. Followed by shock as White quickly departed from the medical bay, Zelos stepping back into the hall as the doors closed. As they closed, sealing away the evidence of what they were again, she even looked a little scared. A feeling of trepidation too great to fully hold within for but the briefest of moments.

Of course that soon passed and now she glared at the subject of her ire as they walked. Pod 551.

“[What were you thinking?]”

*[Apology: You ***** that Asari Zelos Jinute be taken to your **** *****.]*

“[She wasn’t even supposed to be here until… never mind.]”

Zelos wondered if they realized that her grasp of their language and her hearing were both good enough to listen in on the quick, hushed, conversation between White and the pod intelligence. If so they needn’t have concerned themselves. It put her own nerves to rest, and did much to still the pounding of her heart that had been present after what she saw. After all, what kind of dangerous synthetic race of robots makes scheduling errors or loses track of time?

But the things Zelos had seen hung over them, and when they at last entered another one of the small briefing rooms she had become so acquainted with over the last few weeks she knew that their next topic of conversation likely wouldn’t be the Krogan. Even after Zelos had seated herself White paced back and forth, the pod left to carry out some other required task. Alone together, Zelos could surmise that White had summoned the courage to confront this obvious issue, but still found herself flummoxed by what to even say.

“So… you probably have questions,” she said. Surprising Zelos by how well she had buried those concerns and worries from a moment ago. She kept her voice level and clear, and had she not been with her from the walk up to where they now were, she wouldn’t have known how unprepared she had been for this. “I want to be clear that we did intend to explain this. It was simply hard to find the right… time.”

“I can understand that.” Zelos considered her next words carefully. They’d had suspicions of course, they weren’t dumb, but this hadn’t been one of the scenarios she had thought likely. Still there was no point in dodging about it, and White had struck her as someone who preferred dealing in clear resolute actions. “You’re not entirely ‘human’ anymore are you?”

She might have been too blunt with that, but there was something slightly comical at how White stiffened, falling into the seat opposite Zelos. Mouth open and closing without a sound, before at last asking, “H-how? How did you learn that?”

“It wasn’t that hard really. You put the name or references to it everywhere. It’s even part of your salute and standard oath. ‘Glory to Mankind’ and such. Plus trying to hide thousands of years of history while also working with us on translation efforts? That was never going to work.”

“How much do you know then?”

“Not much really,” Zelos admitted. “Rinasa noticed that her request for entertainment basically had video programs that were ten thousand years old according to your calendar and then almost nothing new until only a few centuries ago. That combined with the pictures of ruins and… Vokall calls it ‘A theme of remembrance’ in your art? Well, we all concluded that some calamity must have reduced your population and led to millennia of social and cultural stagnation.”

White nodded, a wistful smile on her face as she said, “Remembrance? I suppose that’s a good expression for it. And yes, your guesses are quite correct. There was a great calamity many thousands of years ago. You probably even have a good idea when if you’ve figured this much out.”

“Sometime around… 2000 or so?”

“Yes, that would be about right.” White let out a mirthless laugh, looking down at her own hands before once more speaking. “Shows our arrogance in assuming keeping ‘important’ historical documents and documentaries out of your hands would be enough. Just because you aren’t… like us, doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be as smart as us.”

“That’s another thing… from what of your history we were able to view this long period of stagnation doesn’t make sense. Not with any of the theories we came up with.”

“What were they anyhow? I do intend to explain this still, but I’m curious what you might have thought of us.”

“Global calamity and environmental collapse leading to long-term cryo-sleep in vaults was one idea. But that didn’t explain your biological eccentricities. I thought that you might have been clones, highly cybridized, recreated after the environment had become stable again. Maybe so used to that method of reproduction that it had become standard even after you started to rebuild.”

“Sadly cloning… didn’t work,” White said after a long pause. “Though you are remarkably close to truth.”

“Well that was my hypothesis. Vokall was likely closer. ‘Android’ means ‘artificial human’ after all, doesn’t it?”

“Now that I don’t understand,” White said, shaking her head. “How did he figure that out?”

“Leave it to a Salarian to pick the simplest path first. He just asked for a written dictionary to use as a reference and looked it up. Censoring printed works isn’t easy or quick after all.”

This time White’s laugh was honest, and not tinged by regret or sorrow. “I suppose it’s telling that you figured so much out from a few scraps of data and a loaned reference book. Yes, we are androids. Created beings in the image of humanity.”

The silence that followed was weighed down by the next, yet unspoken, question. They both knew it was coming, and both felt hesitation for different reasons.

“What happened to the humans?” Zelos asked at last. “Or more specifically, who killed them?”

“What makes you think they didn’t die out naturally?”

“Your culture, the nature of your military from what of it that I’ve seen, and the ruins you’re still rebuilding. That and you weren’t able to hide every reference to the ‘Machine Wars.’ Though that led Vokall to all sorts of bizarre ideas.”

“Such as?”

Zelos hesitated. Not sure how to explain that the Salarian’s surprisingly large knowledge of science fiction works had led him to conjecture an entirely baseless theory of robots fighting robots for long dead creators. And especially not wanting to be the one to voice such belief if it was true, or some of the possible variations on that theme. Implying that the androids might have killed and replaced the humans would probably have been rather rude.

But as White continued to wait for her response, Zelos felt she had to say something.

“That you fought a very long war against an AI foe that had killed off the original humans.”

“Or that we might have done it?” White didn’t look as insulted by the insinuation as she had feared. “I wonder how common that is? Regardless, while there might be some androids who say we killed humanity, they’re being melodramatic about it. Failing to save someone doesn’t make you a murderer. And as for the Machine Wars and those long years we’ve yet to speak about… would it surprise you to learn that you aren’t the first alien species we’ve encountered?”

“No. If anything it would explain a lot if we weren’t.”

“You’re not even the second,” White said. Pausing for a moment before continuing, “Perhaps not even the third depending on how you define things. And most of them brought devastation, death, and ceaseless war to our world.”

Zelos thought over what White had said. Speaking at last, a voice steady despite the unease she felt, “I’m surprised we were treated so well. Given all that must have happened.”

“The affronts to our personal sovereignty and the deaths that came from it were a long time ago. The aliens… the second ones to arrive. They unleashed the machines we fought for so long. And that was all they did. We never even received communication from them. And eventually their own creations proved less than loyal to their masters and destroyed them. That’s why I’m not surprised by your suspicion. Even outside of Old World fiction, I got to listen to the recording of synthetic life forms gleefully boast about killing their own creators.” White shook her head, saying at last, “I suppose that gave me a new perspective on why the humans were so worried about their creations rising up against them.”

“That’s not an uncommon concern. But,” Zelos said, “what did happen to the humans then? And who were the other two species to arrive?”

“The third I can take you to meet. The first… will be difficult to explain. It was more a phenomenon then a life form… more an unnatural disaster then a planned arrival.” White hesitated, trying to find the words. “In truth I’m not sure how much of that I should say. There are public data files, even documentaries I could give you that would detail the basic facts. But even that might fail to explain how much was changed by that event.”

White placed her right hand across the table midway. Eyes closing to focus on the internal process she was performing. A translucent frame formed under her outstretched palm. Twelve lines uniting into place and glowing as they did so. Extremely fine characters written upon the edges, so small that Zelos could only barely see that they were there. White opened her eyes, and tapped the tiny see-through cube she had created.

That wasn’t biotics. That was…

She had no idea what that was. At White’s assurance she reached over and tapped the projection. The edge rippled but did not break, a soft texture that remained quite firm. She’d never felt anything like it before. Like the pressure of her skin contacting it was touching numbness as a property of matter, and not something her mind told her.

“What is it?”

“A simple program manipulating extra-dimensional energy potentials, one used to make chairs or other temporary structures. Almost any android can make them with the right upgrades. I suppose you could say that this skill is the sole gift that we received from the first arrival. Though the price humanity paid for learning it, for learning of the other universes where it came from, was their very lives.”

“They called it magic.”

Chapter Text

Intermission

Sometime before…

The fragments drifted about her. So many tiny shards of it all. At first she hadn’t known what they were. Bits of light, scattered sparks that danced in seemingly random patterns. Her caretakers seemed ignorant to what lay within them. The bits of not-stars that twinkled in the ethereal.

There was a harmony to them, a song, one long silenced, but never fully forgotten.

It was sad.

It had the weight of tragedy and loss, one that stretched across the millennia. Even for her, who could feel the voices of the Queens before and know their triumphs and failures against the innumerable that would harm them; she felt some sense of awe before this remnant of another singer. They had survived meteors and wars, the chains of the Enslavers, and even the corruption of the Others. Against all odds they had endured.

But this voice was dead now. Even if fragments of it lived on, it would never sing again.

The sorrow she felt on contemplating this fact made her act strangely. She hesitated to free herself, she held off the urge to lay her first eggs. She meditated upon the stillness of this world and the strange echoes of what might have been voices. She had taken to queer habits, striving to comprehend this strange corner of the cosmos in which she had found herself.

Many had died here. But something worse than death had scarred it. She knew the carrion taste of billions put to slaughter by the will of the Enslavers, she feared the madness that had left her race broken wrecks at the discordance of the Others, but whatever tragedy had left these harrowing screams etched into the void on this world…

It filled her with a fear of the unknown.

She knew the wisdom of the Queens past. They told her to run, to flee this graveyard of a planet. To find safe and silent harbor in which to tend to her eggs.

Yet the lights entranced her, the song of the forgotten. The more she listened the more she heard. It may have been but one voice but it had spawned, become, broken; into perhaps a multitude. They had hoped once. Slept dreaming as she had for a world free of an accursed affliction.

And they had died, cursing fate.

She felt camaraderie with them, sorrow that she had lived while they had died. She had no names to give them, they had none to grant. Yet she sung a dirge to them all the same from her new home on the world of their birth and death. The world she had finally hatched on and the only one she knew outside her inherited memories.

Still what words there were to it, the alien tongue that might have once spoke it; both lay beyond her voice.

She looked forward to the visits of the not-Mothers that she had awoken to. The flavor of their voices, both within and without, comforted her. And of the many others she had learned to recognize by the sound of their unheard sparks. But to them, her voice remained silent. They knew she was intelligent and had asked questions of the ship and where she had come from. In truth she could tell them little. The Others’ discord had taken her race during that time, and what they had learned then was lost. They were impressed by her ability to assemble mechanical objects, to pry apart and understand their workings. But such were mere distractions in truth, their attempt to communicate hampered by her own unwillingness and inability to speak when the puzzle of the sundered song surrounded her and they having no way to force the issue.

It continued on as such for years.

Till he came.

What had she had seen hither to were shadows of the light, reflections distant and distorted of true flame and proper sound. He burned still, even dwindled and aged, with the purity of the origin. She felt in the song the image of what had made it. A creature of arrogance and strength, winged and old. Not from this world… not from this place. Yet it had come to be bound to these tiny creatures. Or their ancestors at least. And in death its- her will and soul had been portioned out to all that remained.

But in him it was no mere flicker. It was a tightly reined furnace, an inferno that screamed out into the void a restless harmony. How that power had been seeded, how it could be contained in such a small sphere she had no idea. But at last she could hear clearly the words. It was not her song, and these sparks did not dwell within her, but it was a song nonetheless.

Their voice could stretch between the stars, it could mimic this.

When she approached the ever grinning orb that hosted this last fragment she took some pleasure in the shock and surprise her voice had. Pride was unbecoming of a Queen, but to succeed at mimicry after so long she could not hold in her jubilation. She spoke his name, she spoke in a tongue they all knew but had never heard.

“Emil.”

And when they called back to her, she did something quite odd indeed.

She truly accepted the name they gave her as her own. Never had they done so before. Not once in the thousands of years under the yoke of the Enslavers had they accepted the names placed upon them. They were the song and they needed no more.

But then these strange beings had taught her the tongue of Dragons… it would have been ungrateful for Grendel not to take the name they had offered her.

Chapter Text

Reports

*If you are reading this then the terminal you have accessed is currently logged in with LEVEL 5 Security Clearance. If you do not have permission to view these materials immediately log out as you are currently in violation of C-Sec Regulation A-13 of the Information Control Act and Council Motion 693-BLACK Pertaining to Current Operational Secrecy.

Violators will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

Codex Entries (as of 701 CE and 12143 AD)

Earth

The homeworld of the species known as humans, recently discovered by an Asari exploration patrol in that region. Still recovering from depopulation resulting from an alien invasion (see Alien Species UX-18-62) it is the home of 460 million members of its dominant species. Once controlled by an organization called the Army of Humanity, since the end of the wars the long devastated populace has begun the slow process of rebuilding their homes and cultures in the wake of the unprecedented loss of life. While populated areas have been reclaimed and rebuilt, large sections of the planet’s past infrastructure remain in ruins and still active combat weapons are common. A general priority alert is placed on travelers to this system, warning them to not venture outside of safe zones marked by Public Security.

Shortly after the completion of the orbital defense station Heimdall, the regional armies colloquially referred to as The Resistance officially established a new governing body in the Alliance of Networked Systems, as the last attack by the invaders had devastated both higher command and global communications. The first act of the Alliance governing council was to re-establish a unified military force to defend their world from further aggressive actors.

This force was named YoRHa, using the same name as the next generation weapons deployment unit instrumental in ending the conflict.

----:Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Report: SEALED below LEVEL 4 Security Clearance.

Contact was established by survivors of ‘Operation SHELL-CRACKER,’ who were rescued by the Android vessel the Duban after their own ship was destroyed by the pursuing Krogan. Shortly thereafter one of the pursuing Krogan vessels tracked them back by following deposited sensor probes and mapping likely systems from the activated relays in that region of space. YoRHa forces disabled and captured the vessel, allowing for interrogation of Krogan prisoners and the in-depth analysis of the Krogan warship’s computer systems.

This proved instrumental in repelling the second fleet action two months later, as the Krogan were not prepared for electronic warfare as aggressive as YoRHa forces were capable of mounting. While two patrol ships, the Hugin and the Munin, suffered critical damages, one Krogan vessel was destroyed by induced drive failure and three more were captured when their engines failed. As the remaining Krogan warships escaped beyond the Charon relay such tactics will be expected in future engagements, but it stands as a testament to the force multiplying effect that even the current YoRHa space assets will have working in conjunction with Citadel forces.

However the possibility of further Krogan tactical adaption and potential strategic scale decisions has led to the omission of certain key facts from the public report, above and beyond that contact was made by Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. The necessity of this subterfuge was argued to both the Admiralty Board of YoRHa and the Alliance government by Zelos Jinute and Vokall Aran, eventually acquiescing to the necessity given the threat the Krogan posed. In light of the Council’s agreement with this decision, special retro-active permission has been granted to the actions taken outside of their services in Special Tactics and Reconnaissance in bringing this about.

Humans

The dominant species of the planet Earth. Notable for adeptness with hitherto unknown varieties of biotic powers and the extreme levels of cybernetic augmentation that their military forces undergo. Both are the results of the long war they fought against the alien invasion (see Alien Species UX-18-62).

----:Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Report: SEALED below LEVEL 4 Security Clearance.

Humans are functionally extinct. While arguments can be made as to cultural, societal, and even psychological continuity with the Androids made by them and in their form, no living genetic specimen of the human species still lives.

Despite early omission of this fact from discussions with the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance members that they rescued, following full disclosure they readily revealed the extent of their synthetic nature in future discussions. Once the Asari patrol ship Nyfera was contacted and arrived in system, officer Rinasa M’kier began cooperative testing with YoRHa volunteers to establish a baseline of resistance to likely countermeasures that the Krogan could implement. Using common hardware and military grade anti-synthetic weapons, Rinasa demonstrated that a 70% reduction in infantry combat effectiveness could be expected if the Krogan became aware of the Android’s true nature before squad level tactical adaption or equipment upgrades could be distributed throughout YoRHa forces.

This evidence was submitted in the report to the Alliance and YoRHa leadership as one of the two primary reasons for the short-term subterfuge. Falsified ‘translation errors’ will be used as the excuse for the mistake upon later disclosure and important commanders in Citadel and YoRHa forces will attempt to minimize the spread of rumors so that third party information brokers cannot spread this info to the Krogans. It is estimated that five years would be a generous allotment for this obfuscation to last. Though the spread of misinformation may allow for even longer and more significant damages to the Krogan’s war efforts.

Special retro-active permission has been granted to the actions and secured information revealed by members of Special Tactics and Reconnaissance in bringing this about.

----:Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Report: SEALED below LEVEL 5 Security Clearance.

All android bodies, while superficially similar to their progenitor species, are entirely synthetic. Those components that seem organic do so through mimicry and intensely accurate emulation. Most notably their brains involve a complex form of emulating circuitry. This generates a type of artificial sapience that resists traditional efforts of AI identification. Based on current data blind testing would not reveal the identity of an android without examining physical evidence.

Androids are not biotic, and had no experience with the concept until demonstrated to them. They find the idea of an anomalous material spontaneously adapting to organic life in such a fashion quite odd, though more for how relatively ‘safe’ it is by their standards. Not surprising given the efforts they have gone through to safely control the Demonic Element.

The uniqueness of the extra-dimensional material and its location on Earth were the second reason for the current misinformation campaign. No synthetic life form has ever demonstrated biotic abilities and were the Krogan to realize this about the denizens of Earth they might quickly surmise its importance. The Krogan conquering Earth or even simply acquiring samples of the Demonic Element cannot be allowed.

As such, despite grossly overstepping her assigned authority, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance officer Zelos Jinute’s agreement with YoRHa and Alliance leadership to engage in total information control over the source, potential uses, and probable dangers has been retro-actively approved by the Council. It will remain so indefinitely or until the current crisis passes. At that time the amount of information to be publically disclosed will be reconsidered.

Human VI Use

Virtual Intelligences are quite common among human civilian and military services. These ‘support pods’ often use a distributed intelligence to better perform their assigned task. Many of the unusual biotic abilities demonstrated by human forces make use of special amps that work in conjunction with these support pods.

----:Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Report: SEALED below LEVEL 5 Security Clearance.

The line between Virtual Intelligence and Artificial Intelligence is blurred with Android creations. Despite their existence as a fully AI species they do not create their own AI servants with unrestricted freedoms. Yet at the same time there are emancipated AIs that evolved from their VI origins and have taken roles beyond their purpose on activation. Alliance laws are in flux as to how to treat them, with some of the more notable examples having simply been ‘re-designated’ as ‘Androids’ despite still being distributed AI programs running on multiple platforms at once.

This, while concerning, is not the reason for the high security clearance on this information. The fact that Demonic Element manipulation is handled by these AIs or VIs, often entirely with minimal control by an Android operator is. The pod runs a ‘program’ and, through manipulation of a sample of the Demonic Element, constructs the desired effect while borrowing the energy required from a parallel universe. Until the current crisis is passed knowledge regarding the Demonic Element and its application is under a total information control act.

Machine Wars

The period of time, some seven thousand years in total, during which the Earth was under attack by the colonization efforts of an unknown alien species (see Alien Species UX-18-62). The aliens were eventually defeated and the surviving invaders driven off in 11945 of Earth’s calendar.

No sign of the surviving alien networks have been seen since the end of the war. They, and the ark they left on, must have escaped the Sol system on an unknown trajectory.

Alien Species UX-18-62

The unidentified alien force that invaded Earth and unleashed a self-replicating AI to exterminate the native sapient species. Examination of corpses and ships shows no record of them in galactic history. That and how they apparently traveled between the stars in sub light ships without using the properties of element zero makes them an enigma among space faring civilizations.

----:Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Report: SEALED below LEVEL 4 Security Clearance.

The bodies of UX-18-62 were too severely degraded for in-depth analysis, though xeno-archaeological studies of their ships and tools have painted an odd and disturbing picture. And while their societal and cultural state could charitably be called bland from the superficial examination of their ships and what data could be recovered from their computers, their ability to construct adaptive, if even maladaptive, technological solutions to problems is stunning.

Even without mass effect technology they could pose a significant threat. If the AI creations that destroyed them were to acquire it they might be the most dangerous threat to galactic stability since the Rachni.

----:Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Report: SEALED below LEVEL 5 Security Clearance.

Rachni (Grendel)

The surviving Rachni queen and her small ‘colony’ on Earth are under the care of Alliance scientists and Public Security forces. The Rachni Queen, Grendel as she was named by her caretakers, is quite intelligent and has learned to communicate with Human Androids and Pod AI systems. This seemingly has something to do with the presence of small amounts of the Demonic Element in both. Android scientists have assessed the matter and do not believe there is any of that material in the Rachni themselves, but that their extremely fine tuned ‘sixth sense’ that allows for their organic superluminal communication is somehow responsible for this phenomenon. How this modifies current theories regarding the Rachni will have to wait until the existence of Grendel can be revealed to the public.

Despite the startling encounter with the ‘Third Arrival Aliens,’ Zelos Jinute managed to engage in discussion with Grendel through the use of a translating Android (Public Security Major 2B). While Grendel does not have a full understanding of the events during the Rachni wars, she attempted to explain the cause as being induced by some form of contagious madness inflicted upon her species. Though this does fit with observed data, her inability to place a name on the source of this ailment is disturbing. Whether her story was accepted or not, Grendel agreed to remain on Earth for the indefinite future along with her offspring. Especially important as the Krogan learning of the Rachni’s survival on Earth at this time would not be ideal, most likely precipitating a concerted effort to invade and destroy the remaining Rachni.

In light of this secondary diplomatic agreement that Zelos officiated, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance has been granted retro-active authority to act in this capacity.

Magic

While most applications of the Demonic Element are referred to as ‘programs’ by the Androids that use them, the overarching term for the manipulation of extra-dimensional energy by this method is Magic. This is not a translation error, and given historical data available concerning both the First Arrival Entities (see 6-12 Incident) and what little experimental records still remain from early tests done with the material, the reason for this words use becomes self-evident. At its basis it is an anomalous chemical element (spectrographic analysis gives false results ranging from Carbon, Sodium, and up to Chlorine) which responds to quantum observation in a unique fashion. It ‘reacts’ depending on the relative sentience of the life form perceiving it.

One cannot overstate the extreme importance that such a discovery represents. Up to now all so-called ‘Psionic’ research or studies of supernatural phenomena were found to have readily explainable causes within the framework of unusual physiological features of the species in question, or yet unknown biotic properties. The exceptions, mostly dealing with quirks of Prothean technology and certain other alien artifacts, were thought to be caused by our lack of technological adeptness with the underlying principles.

Now we know that the universe, or perhaps better said, the sum of ‘potential universes’ is far stranger than we ever suspected. The proof of parallel realities alone would represent a substantial windfall for theoretical physicists, but a mechanism by which they affect one another combined with that? Adding in the ramifications of the potential privileging of conscious actors, even in the form of synthetic intelligences, that this material represents, and it’s not an exaggeration to say even theological studies may take note of this discovery in time.

However the potential danger of the Demonic Element cannot be overstated. Uncontrolled exposure to significant amounts can have unpredictable and deleterious effects on a life form’s physiology and psychology. Even with the physical robustness provided to them, Androids consider experimental research in this subject and the construction of new programs to be an extremely taxing profession. Requiring both great skill and attention to detail to create something safe and reproducible.

As such, the current Information Control Act regarding it is required given the extreme threat that could result if the Krogan were to obtain samples and begin research into it. While only a short-term solution, it will hopefully provide a safeguard until methods of control and safe analysis can be implemented. The knowledge of the Demonic Element and the technology derived from the Magic it allows for are too widespread amongst the Android populace for long term secrecy to be a viable option.

6-12 Incident

That a single extra-dimensional incursion could have such lasting effects is another reason for caution. While the samples of the Demonic Element left on Earth are for the most part ‘safe,’ or at least so in the minute traces found free in the environment, the same could not be said for all of the material that arrived originally.

Two distinct types of the Demonic Element arrived in the human city of Tokyo (June 12, 2003, 10139 years ago). One of which precipitated a highly virulent disease with properties just as anomalous as the material that caused it. White Clorination Syndrome’s potential endpoints, death by chemical transmutation into Sodium Chloride or the transformation of the human victim into some kind of mentally dominated vessel driven to attack and kill the living around them are both grotesque and horrible enough on their own. But that the suspicions of the human researchers and the current generation of Android historians that the chemical element itself might have retained some form of intelligence, derived from the entity of which it had been part of and continued on no matter how small the particulate bits might have become, is even more alarming.

While it is true that humanity’s extinction could have been readily prevented with current space travel capabilities, even if the planet itself had been rendered uninhabitable, the potential for a new and hither to unimaginable form of WMD is clear. A garden world seeded with an aggressive form of the Demonic Element would have to be quarantined indefinitely and any biological life forms exposed forced to remain there under threat of immediate destruction.

Luckily no trace of the hazardous Demonic Element remains on Earth at this time. But the potential threat of weaponized exposure, or even attempts to acquire more through extra-dimensional contact experiments using the current available samples, is highly alarming. Given this the recommendation of an Information Control Act regarding the Demonic Element and all related materials by Special Tactics and Reconnaissance has been approved and all secured information revealed during negotiations with Alliance leadership and the YoRHa forces has been granted retro-active authority to do so.

Chapter Text

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “We’ve gone over your… mission report. In light of the secondary evidence being in accordance with your own-”

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “And the subsequent neurological and psychiatric evaluation you underwent.”

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “Yes that as well; we wish to reconvene this debriefing now that we’ve had time to confirm the majority of your report from independent inspectors outside of the surviving members of your own team.”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “So you believe me now?”

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “We haven’t much choice in that matter. No matter how impossible your findings may be, it would be madness to deny the evidence before us. Not only the discovery of new species- a new and apparently synthetic species at that, but one that has discovered a hither to unknown field of science. The manipulation of extra-dimensional energy.”

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “Though the stated history of these Androids… Android Humans… is disturbing. Do you really believe everything they told you is true?”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “If you’re asking me if I think they’re lying? No, I don’t think they are. If there are any errors in their history it’s likely because of how old the records are and the intervening wars.”

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “Assuming their history is accurate an alien self-replicating war machine isn’t even the worst thing they’ve had to deal with. Little wonder they’ve become what they now are.”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “So you agree with Vokall’s personal opinion?”

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “In part; just classifying them as AIs seems to ignore the practical fact they simply don’t function under any current rules we know for the development and construction of such. I’d almost believe that what you had met were digitized copies of the original humans themselves.”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “They rather strongly believe otherwise, and stated as much when the idea was brought up.”

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “Some sort of species wide delusion perhaps? You mentioned that they have an idealized view about their progenitors.”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “Idealized might not be the right word.”

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “A religious impulse then? Not surprising if so.”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “No… well, no more than how any child worships their mother. But it’s tainted by how none of them have ever met Humans and they know that they never will. There’s this feeling that they’re seeking the approval of ghosts.”

-Excerpt from Sealed Transcript of Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Debriefing to Citadel Council, 12141.

***

12146 March 3rd

Attu Island

Krogan Prison Camp.

He rushed forward, arms outstretched as he tried to tackle his opponent. Force met with force, his greater mass met by theirs. And the strain of his muscles burning as he tried to make her take even one step back. Her dense frame and lower center of gravity made it a difficult task.

Instead she stepped forward, low, and swiveled her body to send him off balance. A moment later he fell to the hard ground, tasting dirt in his mouth. His fist slammed the packed earth. He felt the pounding rush of his own blood, the anger, the adrenalin, blotting out everything else. Not a true Blood Rage though. That would do no good against this opponent.

Still he stepped warily about her. Hoping that some stratagem would present itself, some means to victory now that brute strength had shown itself to be not enough once again.

Her eyes tracked him, gaze calm and focused. Stepping lightly to keep facing him with slow and methodical movements; her, perhaps unnecessary, respiration a similar contrast to his own panting breathes. His breath was hot. And each one was a puff of smoke in the near freezing air.

This time he charged forward. She had already braced herself, eyes locked with his own, and her emotionless expression broken by the slightest hint of a smile. Just as he was about to impact and fall into another test of strength, one he would lose, his upcoming right hand opened. And a cloud of loose soil struck her face.

For the briefest moments she lifted her hands towards her eyes. Just long enough for him to wrap her in a crushing hold. Hoping that his interlocked arms and the two hundred kilos he had on her would be enough to make the difference.

She tried to break it, straining her shoulders against his hold. But her position was hardly ideal, and despite her greater strength she struggled to free herself. Even then it was a testament to his own endurance that he maintained it. His muscles burned from the effort while hers could have kept up for hours without pause.

Still he had her. He couldn’t help but smile.

Till she kicked off the ground. Taking them both two meters up. His grip loosened in surprise, she freed herself and threw him down. Posed to strike towards his throat as she fell, to end their contest with a decisive strike.

He rolled to the side, just missing her impact. The ground cratering in where her feet had landed, a sign of her greater density. He’d come to stand when she ran at him. Her attack was faster, it always was, and he just brought his arms up to block it as she came upon him. He stumbled back, still trying to hold her at bay. But he had tired himself out from his attempted hold, and the match was turning upon him.

If he tried any harder all he’d do was lose and hurt himself.

So Nakmor Drack found his back upon the wall of the isolated yard of the Krogan Prison Camp.

“You yield?” 2B asked.

“Yeah,” he answered, between panting breaths. She pulled back wiping the dirt from her face. It was all Drack could do not to fall over. The wall behind him provided the support to keep standing that he so sorely needed then.

“That was quite good. You almost had me there.”

“At what? One eighth strength?”

“That’s perfectly respectable given my level of combat experience.”

“And how much of it were you even using?”

“Does it matter?” 2B asked, shaking her head as she did so. “I don’t really understand. If you wanted a fair fight I could have the handicap set to exactly match your own physical stats Drack. I don’t need to have any advantage at all.”

“And then what? Might as well hand over my quad then. What kind of Krogan would I be if I settled for a fair fight?”

“Speaking of which,” 2B said, satisfied that she had wiped most of the dirt from her face, “this was supposed to be limited to grappling moves.”

“I remember you just telling me no punches, kicks, or head butts since I might get hurt. Didn’t say anything about dirt.”

“I’ll make a note of that for the future. Now, how about your end of the deal?”

“Nothing to say. No one’s planning anything.” Drack shrugged as he stood up. Satisfied that the pain in his left leg was manageable. “We’re all on some blasted frozen island with no ships, no guns, and no way off. There’s plenty of talk about wanting to break out, but nobody’s got a plan.”

“Really? I find that surprising.”

“Why? You beat us. Not like it’s never happened before. To Clan Nakmor anyway. Some of the other Krogan feel different but that’s mostly from the rumors.”

“What rumors?”

“That we’re losing.” Drack pointed up to the sky above. “Out there.”

“You shouldn’t be… the guards,” 2B said, suddenly understanding.

Drack nodded.

“I need names. No one is supposed to be spreading rumors about the war here.”

“What’s the big deal? You’re winning, you’ve got every right to brag about it.”

“Because information about the war could inspire a breakout attempt or a riot,” 2B said. “Someone could get hurt.”

“Like us? Not like we’d be able to do much good without any guns.”

“That’s not the point Drack. This camp was built to keep you safe for the duration of hostilities.”

“Safe? Keep us safe? Why not neuter us while you’re at it!” Drack yelled out, throwing a punch towards 2B’s face.

She caught his arm, twisting it slightly. More than she would to put pressure on the joints of an android but with less force than it would take in that case. She stepped backwards, pulling him along with his body’s momentum into her motion. He couldn’t keep his footing and fell. His arm still tightly gripped by her, while her legs pressed against his right side. Dislocating, breaking, or even worse now only a matter of how much of her strength she felt the desire to use. But she held it steady, just enough for a cinching pain that would tell Drack exactly how this would go without a word spoken.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” 2B said, her voice still calm. “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

Drack grunted, straining as he tested the steel grip of 2B. Relaxing once it became clear he wasn’t getting up till she let him. “You’re lying. You’d just send someone else if you didn’t enjoy this.”

2B hesitated to respond. Drack was young, a fraction of her age. Sent out to fight with his clan and ‘Krantt’ at not even ten years old… it had been facts like this that had led to selecting him as a possible informant on the other Krogan. Even now that they had known each other for a third of his life, it still surprised her that he had grown perceptive enough to notice the pleasure she took from sparring.

“I enjoy the fighting Drack. That doesn’t mean I want to rip your arm off,” she said at last. Letting him go and standing up. Offering a hand to help him to his feet. One which Drack stared at for a moment before rising under his own strength.

“Could have fooled me,” he said, shaking his right arm. “Felt like you almost dislocated something.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve put in a considerable amount of effort into exploring non-lethal combat techniques for Krogan biology. You’re in no danger of any kind of accidental injury.”

“Shame. If you roughed me up a bit it would make them more likely to believe I was being interrogated.”

“Well you basically are?” 2B said. “The violence is just the reward instead of the punishment.”

***

2B walked into prison administrator’s room, still holding the data pad with the information she’d gleaned from Drack about possible issues that might need attention. A few more senior Krogan to keep an eye on and the more pertinent problem of androids violating regulations. The local administrator looked up from her personal console. Her neatly trimmed blonde hair just long enough to brush against the collar of the unarmored Security Officer uniform.

“I’ve a list of guards that might be leaking news about the war. Alter their patrol assignments so we can find out if they’re really violating the information blackout from a corroborating witness.”

“You trust the Krogan to tell you the truth?”

“I trust him to not do anything that would stop me from showing up for our little spars 21O.” 2B froze her movements with the data pad. Saying, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to forget your name.”

“It’s fine. I took quite a while to settle on choosing one,” 21O, then 21B, or now Ornella said. Taking the data pad from 2B’s hands as she continued to speak. “Though I should remind you that technically you were still wrong as I never reassigned myself to Operator status. Though given how I don’t remember that operation and have spent most of my time working in an administrative capacity I was never much of a Battle type.”

“We could always set up a practice time.”

“No thank you. I’ve found a sport called racketball to be an effective substitute to combat stimulation. Besides I doubt you’d find much pleasure in dealing with an amateur like me. There’s no way I’d be able to beat a Krogan with such an extreme reduction in strength like you can.”

“That’s why it’s important to learn. More than just base combat routines, but the practice required to make use of them. Especially when dealing with the particulars of unarmed combat with other androids or organics. The variables to consider are far different than when fighting machine lifeforms.”

“I’ll still pass. You might have the drive to re-write our training on non-lethal hand-to-hand engagement and then keep adding to it now that there are all these new physiological frames to consider, but I don’t.” She smiled ever so slightly as she said, “But if you want we could try some non-combat sport. I know they built a recreation facility in your home city.”

2B looked at the other android. Trying to imagine her choosing to do something like that. She’s changed a lot since the end of the war.

Though she’d barely known her that well, and with how much time the Operators had had on the Bunker they might have gotten into all sorts of things during their off hours.

“Maybe. Though given all the work we have to do I’m not sure when we’ll both find the time for something like that.”

“Regardless, I’ve put in another order for disinfectants and the modified staunching gel. The Krogan often find new and inventive ways to injure themselves even when not directly breaking any of the rules laid down.”

“I’m still surprised that it works on organics,” 2B said. Looking at her arm for a moment in thought. “Though given how much effort we put into emulating surface level human physiology I guess it should not be a surprise that once you strain some of the heavy metals out of it that it becomes a passable wound closure method.”

“More than passable. Some of those Salarians think it could be re-engineered to have an even greater effect on organics while still retaining most of the features that make it the basis for field repair and emergency physical stabilizing treatments.”

“So a generic synthetic and organic… medical gel?”

“It looks like it. Shame the original researchers were on Kaguya Station when it was destroyed. They’d have been quite impressed with how far their invention has been taken.”

“Yeah,” 2B said, looking out the window as the low hanging clouds began to empty a cold rain. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

***

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “While the remarkable properties of this extra-dimensional chemical element are astonishing enough, that hardly represents the only thing you had to report Zelos.”

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “The Rachni. Do they understand what they have? The incredible danger a living queen could represent?”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “I think they do. Though given the fact that they spent the last several thousand years fighting a replicating horde of machines it’s possible that they just don’t consider the Rachni much of a threat.”

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “Possibly. Probable even. And if the queen’s, Grendel's, statements are to be believed then they might no longer present as great a threat.”

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “The Rachni will always present a danger. We very nearly lost control of the Citadel to them. And it was their aggression that led to uplifting the Krogan and our current predicament.”

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “However even then we did not intend to exterminate the Rachni. The Krogan’s zeal, while admirable at the time, went further than desired or necessary. Once planet bound the Rachni did not present a threat significant enough to require what was done on Suen.”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “Also while she’s… intimidating, Grendel doesn’t come across as aggressive as the stories and recordings from the earlier Rachni encounters showed. Assuming she doesn’t break the agreement to remain on Earth it could be considered an internal matter for the Androids to deal with.”

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “Neither of you had direct experience with the Rachni during the early years of the war. Before the Krogan supplemented our badly taxed forces. Still, I am willing to defer to your judgment on this matter Zelos. You had more experience with Earthbound Queen.

-Excerpt from Sealed Transcript of Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Debriefing to Citadel Council, 12141.

***

12146, March 3rd

Northern Siberia, Rachni Preserve

The Public Security transport landed on the snow covered field. 2B’s boots lightly crunching the frozen ground as she walked towards the landing area and supply buildings. The increased supplies, both repair equipment and food, had needed more space. Sadly they’d been unable to find the time to expand the refurbished airfield enough to deal with all the traffic that had started to arrive.

Though Grendel or her… children could handle that well enough. 2B had to think over the word in her mind. In truth she wasn’t sure what she should call them. The word Grendel used seemed to have more to it then how it sounded when she spoke it herself. Then again I still don’t really understand how she talks to me or other androids.

Nines had tried to explain it to her. Or as best he could figure anyway. Something about the Rachni’s ability to ‘speak’ and ‘hear’ by an organic FTL comm allowing them to register the minute signals of the Demonic Element used for generating the power for pod programs or specialty android systems.

Though 2B had come to find out that even older generations of androids had at least some of the substance in their circuitry. Vokall, the Salarian, had gone off on a long tangent about how that might explain some of the oddities with how the concept of android consciousness differed so strongly from AI research performed by other species. 9S had of course corrected him about how androids, Support Pod AIs, and older systems, did use quantum computation systems. If primitive ones for those that had been first invented by humans in the Old World.

Ultimately they couldn’t reach a consensus on what exactly it meant.

Hardly surprising. Magic research is its own thing and Vokall was merely speculating based on what the Salarians know about artificial intelligence.

“Oh, excuse me,” 2B said as she almost walked into a Rachni. Its light brown carapace bedecked by a modified Wildlife Surveyors jacket and tool belt. She stepped back as it passed, the words of another voice forming in her mind.

We apologize. The Mother will wish to hear you. She relishes each time your voices intertwine.

2B continued on, passed a couple Public Security members and android technicians. As well as the likely source of the Rachni’s partial outfit.

It makes sense, 2B thought. Wildlife Surveyors can’t just let the Rachni hunt whatever they want on their own. We’re lucky so many species managed to survive the machine wars after all.

Instead they had supplied foodstuffs, what little the androids bothered to make for their own personal pleasure, and had come up with a schedule for when the reindeer herds could be culled safely. It had thus far worked well enough, though Grendel had offered to simply set up the necessary equipment for a local hydroponics system and nutrient synthesis infrastructure in the old military base.

“Things have really changed around here,” 2B said, passing into the rebuilt inner complex. Walking under a heating fan and feeling the blown air shift her hair about. “Though some things probably haven’t.”

***

12141, April 4th.

“Now don’t be alarmed,” 2B said, looking at the Asari beside her. The woman’s blue complexion now a paler shade even after the walk through the freezing air into the depths of the old complex. While there were more androids nearby, they were taking this last part of the journey just the two of them.

“Why should I be scared?” Zelos asked. Barely holding in the nervous laugh. “I’m only meeting a representative of the alien horde that gave me nightmares as a little girl. That’s obviously no reason to panic.”

“Good. As long as we both understand that,” 2B said. An attempt at a re-assuring smile on her face. One which she hoped crossed the species barrier.

They continued on, deeper into the large underground hanger. The elevators that would have lifted aircraft long since rusted shut and this complex mostly ignored by the machine lifeforms and the androids for such long periods of time that mere patch job repairs would do little to fix most of the systems here. Still there was some lighting, run by mobile generators in an upper level. It cast faint illumination on the room before them.

And the creature therein.

2B stepped in front of Zelos, and missed how the Asari flinched back as the shadowy mass charged forward. A metal pail knocked backwards and rolling to a stop at her feet as the immense creature came to a stop before the android. The large tentacles on the back hovering around 2B’s body for a moment as the Rachni’s dripping mouth seemed to sniff her head.

“Again?” 2B sounded exasperated as the Rachni tried to eat her head. She ducked down and stepped back saying, “Come on? Still doing that?”

Zelos just stared, her mouth hanging open and her legs weak. She had to lean against the nearby wall, palm spread wide and the sharp edges of the pitted concrete scrapping into her glove. When she looked up again she almost bolted. 2B had walked closer to her, coming within a three meters now. And the Rachni Queen hovered behind her, a multi-limbed shadow of destruction.

Still lightly playing with the Android’s hair with her mouth feelers.

“So… she says hi?”

“Really?” Zelos asked. Feeling like an idiot the moment the word left her mouth.

“Well no,” 2B responded. “There’s more to it. But ‘May we find harmonious conjunction’ sounds like hi when she says it.”

“Goddess, this is so bizarre,” Zelos said. Voicing the thought aloud, and feeling embarrassed a moment later.

“It’s not any easier for me. But Grendel wanted A2 or me to act as translators for this meeting. And she’s off world right now.” As 2B spoke, Grendel pulled back and let out a hissing sound that turned into something like a trill. Before resting her head beside 2B’s on her left side. 2B stroked the Rachni’s feelers with her right hand. “I know. She hasn’t been around much lately.”

Zelos had walked closer, somehow finding the courage to do so even if each step felt weighted down with lead. One of the Rachni’s back limbs, a long whipping tentacle waved down between her and 2B.

“She says she remembers the Asari. But only a little,” 2B said. The tentacle wavered closer, Zelos lifting her arms up, and the tentacle laying lightly on it. “She doesn’t know why the old queens acted like they did. Not really. But she’s sorry if they frightened you.”

Even with the light touch of the Rachni upon her, even with the Queen, with this Grendel standing directly in front of her; Zelos found she couldn’t believe this to be real. It felt like something dreamlike, something from a fairytale.

The innocent Maiden travels into the lair of the great monster and parleys for her family’s safety. Though, even as Zelos thought that she found herself making a correction.

She was no mere unarmed girl, and this creature, for all it had terrified her, did not have the power to threaten her and her people this day. Instead she was more the conquering one, come to negotiate a peace long deferred.

Rather different than those old stories in truth.

Hopefully this would have a happy ending.

***

Codex:

Staunching Gel:

Invented on Kaguya Station, an advanced research and development installation built in orbit around the planet Earth, Staunching Gel is a quick acting wound and injury closure method developed for field use. With only basic tools it facilitates healing and can even stabilize life threatening injuries in many cases. Its properties are applicable to a wide variety of life forms, and with minimal alterations to the base structure can be used by both synthetic and organic life to perform first aid.

Sadly the creator, Sirta, was aboard the Kaguya Station when it was destroyed by an out of control reactor breach. Talks are still continuing to found an organization to handle further developments in this compound in her name in honor of the many lives it has gone on to save.

Chapter Text

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “Our final topic is the one your personal report spoke of the least. Namely how do we classify the androids? Their appearance, behavior, and cultural identity makes them too similar to the humans that created them for us to consider them entirely distinct from that origin. And they don’t behave like any kind of AI we are experienced with.”

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “Assuming once again that what they’ve told you is correct. If they are the result of failed attempt at transferring their consciousnesses to a digitized state or some cultural preservation program that produced synthetic versions of their own species they would be the functional, if not biological, descendants of the human species.”

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “Who’s to say it would have failed Vokatia? They had millennia of war against an aggressive interstellar power. One that could not exert force with our capability perhaps, lacking FTL, but still one that might have caused not merely stagnation but regression on a technological and societal level.”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “I think you’re assuming too much. We can’t actually compare them to humans to make these judgments. And while I didn’t look into their archives as much as Vokall, he said that there doesn’t appear to be any signs that they’re missing anything that significant.”

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “We are speaking of events that happened up to ten thousand years ago. It’s still possible that the androids may have lost historical records or propagated errors that might have compounded after such a long period of time.”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “I still agree with Vokall’s conclusion. The androids have provided too much corroborating evidence for their files for them to be in error on something so important. There were other programs in place to preserve the human species that failed.”

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “And yet he advised that the androids be considered not only as sapient AIs but that they should also be thought of as a sub-species of the now extinct humans.”

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “I think I know why. He used the term ‘Inheritors’ in his report. I’m surprised he’s so well read. I only know of it because I’m from the same line as the author.”

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “I’m not aware of why that term is so special in this context?”

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “It’s used in a Salarian novel. Tales of the Machine Mother. It’s rather old, dating back from the early period of space exploration. It involves a synthetic race taking over Sur’Kesh after an apocalyptic event. It was popular enough to define the term for an AI replacing an organic species like the androids claim in many fictional and non-fictional works to follow. Though we’ve never had cause to use it till now, and I doubt many would think to do so.”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “We might now… assuming that Vokall can convince the androids to accept it.”

Asari Councilor Vokatia: “We wanted to ask about that. You were the commanding officer during that operation. And Vokall Aran has since requested a transfer from Special Tactics and Reconnaissance to Contact Offices. Specifically those working on Earth.”

Salarian Councilor Daernor: “While his request is well reasoned, we do need someone with the appropriate security clearance to oversee information disseminated at this time and to work with the Alliance and YoRHa, I find it odd that someone with potentially another decade of time in the STG would want such a post.”

Officer Zelos Jinute: “He didn’t lose his nerve if that’s what you’re asking. I think Vokall just found something he wanted more. It’s not every day you get to handle a Contact Scenario.”

-Excerpt from Sealed Transcript of Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Debriefing to Citadel Council, 12141.

***

12146 March 3rd

Alliance System Security and Analysis Offices, Coastal District of New Tokyo Regional Community

The holographic screen glowed a vibrant orange, though he had set the brightness a tad lower as he found it somewhat irritating after long sessions. Currently he was moving fictional and non-fictional works into varying categories. Determined by how likely they were to be considered security risks for the current information control act. While leaving a separate category for those that even if he felt they could be released as is onto the Extranet the Alliance might not want exposed quite yet.

He reached down to a small glass mug, more of that hot beverage ‘coffee’ inside of it. It was one of the substances that androids could ingest that had little effect on them. Vokall suspected it might even be merely a placebo, something they only thought increased concentration because humans had claimed it to do so.

In his case it certainly had some effect, not entirely positive. But he had been getting only an hour thirty of sleep each night for the last couple weeks so he found it a useful crutch to remain focused on the task at hand.

Vokall sat back, blinking at the screen as he took another drink. Tapping a side panel to bring up a paused screen of a long forgotten human program, the still image of the android's dead creators captured in monotone. This was even more of a personal interest than his previous activity, but he’d already gone over the requests for interviews and data files for today. Denying them, referring the appropriate cover material, or transferring them to an android affiliate who had been briefed on how to handle meeting a civilian from Council space without the appropriate security clearance.

Luckily the press release about Machine Wars and the threat of still active platforms has kept most of the less adventurous from trying to gain access. While Vokall hadn’t seen an active machine lifeform himself, he did know that their lie was more an exaggeration than a complete fraud. 9S had informed him that one of the primary duties of Public Security forces was to handle sightings of machine lifeforms on Earth as first responders. As well as any leftover munitions or undetonated weapons of either android or machine origin that might remain in the ruins or wilderness between major settlements. Though he’d said there was more to it than that…

“Hey Vokall, I finished going over those new attack programs. I managed to train them up to 0.7 millisecond system compromise speed against the simulated Krogan defensive architecture.” 9S walked over to Vokall’s left side, waving his hand as he dismissed his own floating display panel. The darker blue on black of his System Security uniform contrasting with the red white of Vokall’s own. “That should be enough to take out anything that doesn’t have redundant VIs acting as oversight to cut the data process off at the first sign of anomalous data contamination. Can’t do any better though. Not without making it into something that would require an android operating it on site.”

“That will not be necessary 9S. There are YoRHa members that have offered their aid to combined forces operations.”

“I suppose they won’t need these new attack programs then. Anyone that trains in hostile hacking customizes their own programs.” 9S paused, looking over at the multiple screens Vokall had open as the Salarian finished off his drink. “And I thought I already told you. People that know me well just call me Nines.”

“Apologies. Though that brings up another question,” Vokall said. 9S wondering what it could be this time. “Why exactly do you change your names?”

“Well we don’t… not really. I guess you could say that it’s like how you have two names. Only one of ours is a designation number for model and manufacturing identification. And the other is something we choose later.”

“I see. Though I must correct you. I have six names. Nasurn Das’Mav Aegohr Farnkel Aran Vokall. Planet, Nation-State, City, District of City, Clan, and assigned name.”

“Well,” 9S said, pausing as he considered the new information. Finally saying, “I’m glad you don’t ask to be called that all the time. It’s kind of a mouthful.”

“That’s no problem. It’s considered unnecessary to use anything but the last two for common conversations. Though I do wonder why some androids have names of one type while others refer to each other by numerical identifications like your own.”

“That would be because they’re from old YoRHa.” Seeing the expression of confusion, the upwards blink of his eyelids and how Vokall was staring back, 9S continued, “Basically YoRHa ran for a lot longer than normal without anyone in the force taking a name. Because of that a lot of us either stuck with our initial designation or just came up with some variation on it when we wanted a general name for personal use.”

“I understand now. So have all of old YoRHa done this?”

“No. There are some… traditionalists who eventually picked a name in the same way all androids outside of YoRHa did. Though even then their full name would be that plus their official designation. Which helps because androids can sometimes end up picking the same name.”

“I see,” Vokall said. Turning back to the screen and pausing the muted video while switching over yet another screen. Finding that there had been no new correspondence from the Alliance or his council contacts. Which meant he had time for more personal investigations. “There’s another topic I’ve been meaning to inquire about.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“You said that Public Security handled reports of machine lifeforms for multiple reasons. But you only ever clarified one of those.”

There was brief pause, 9S looking past Vokall to the window overlooking the ocean. The ruins of human skyscrapers now barely standing out of the water and the bulk of Grun’s corpse further out.

“Why do you want to know anyway? Public Security’s special protocols aren’t really part of anything you’d have to consider for publicizing right now.”

“I’m working on publications. Papers, books, articles. None of them can be released now of course. Maybe not until after I’m dead. But being the first scholar to publish firsthand accounts of research on a new species is quite the honor.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” 9S said, looking concerned as he spoke. “I’m sure the war won’t last that long. We’ve already tripled the size of our fleet assets and doubled the average tonnage. They’re planning to launch three cruisers and a new heavy carrier this summer. We’ll probably start seeing even more gains in territory as we establish better combined strategies with the Turian fleets too.”

He doesn’t know, Vokall thought. A grim sort of mirth that brought out a nervous laugh. “That might be, but Salarians don’t live that long. I just turned thirty. There’s no way the war will be finished in the next six to nine years.”

9S didn’t say anything. Just looking at Vokall with an unreadable expression on his face, the silence casting a heavy weight the longer it lingered on.

Till at last Vokall broke it. “9S… Nines? You don’t need to concern yourself with my inquiry if it’s too private. My question doesn’t concern our current work in the slightest so…”

“No, it’s fine Vokall. I was just thinking,” he said. A melancholy smile on his lips before he continued, “It’s not really that important. Just something not every android likes to talk about. Or really knew about even at the end. You see… not all the machine lifeforms were bad really.”

“That runs counter to most of what I’ve been told.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t that well known. The local resistance forces, exiles, and rogue androids that ran off were the ones most likely to find out about it. And even the machine lifeforms that disconnected from the network could still be dangerous. They just had more of an actual reason for trying to kill us. Territory, some kind of philosophy they decided on… or revenge.” 9S expression had become grim, eyes staring off into the distance of his own memories. “There was a lot of that on every side. Even now I don’t know if I moved on… or really let go of all of that.”

“That’s understandable. Your war lasted for millennia.”

9S shook his head, replying, “No. You’re wrong. My war lasted three years. And I really only remember one or so. Even the Krogan can’t claim that they do anything like that… their earliest real memories being battle. A baptism in war.”

Noticing Vokall’s confused expression, 9S clarified. “A baptism is an Old World religious practice. A ritualized rite of childhood I suppose. Symbolizing their transition into their faith.”

The war had become an all consuming cultural force for them. Though not one that they drew a positive connection from. Not that anyone could have. I doubt any sapient species could fight something like this without lingering societal scars.

“So not all the machine lifeforms were hostile?” Vokall asked, hoping to steer the conversation towards a more positive note.

“Yeah. Some were downright friendly. Really… good too.” 9S spoke slowly. His arms folded against his chest, looking down. “They didn’t deserve what happened.”

He looked up suddenly, blinking and trying to hide the telltale wetness that had formed at the corner of his eyes. Vokall had been quite confused the first time he’d seen an android show such an involuntary reaction. Now he understood it to be one of the many physiological cues that they had inherited from humanity.

And though he took some pride that it showed evidence for his own personal conjectures he couldn’t help but feel guilty each time his questions brought out such reactions. That the androids had chosen to move on did not erase the pain of the past. And the burden of that struggle weighed down on all of them in one way or another.

“Thank you for answering my question I-“

“Don’t worry about it Vokall,” 9S said, a sad, if genuine, smile on his face. “If you want I can dig up some of my old machine lifeform reports on the non-hostile ones. That will have everything you need to know.”

“That would be quite helpful,” Vokall said. Turning back to his computer and noticing a new message. “Oh, well it looks like someone sent more rules and recommendations on what kind of information they want released. Apologies but I need to get back to work now.”

“No problem. And don’t hesitate to ask if you have any more questions.”

***

9S walked into his home. Barely through the door when Pod 042 floated up. Which meant 2B had made it back before him.

*Greetings 9S. How was your day at work?*

“Fine. It keeps me busy at least. How was 2B’s day?”

The digitized male voice paused for a moment before responding.

*Notification. It is proper to ask 2B as to her satisfaction with her assigned duties. I can only verify things I am aware of. Though she only recently returned from the Rachni Preserve.*

He laughed, stepping further in and walking around the pod. A visit to Grendel would explain why 2B had decided to bath or shower. Turning back to say, “Okay, so how was your day then?”

*Acceptable. It rained little and I exchanged data with the Support Pods attached to the Krogan Prison Camp.*

“You should be careful about that. Pod 153 might get jealous if you spend so much time conversing with newer systems.”

*That is unlikely. Pod 153 requested I obtain more information regarding long-term observations of the Krogan here on Earth.*

“I suppose that makes sense. Pod 153 did ask to follow A2 so they could do the same for Krogan in combat conditions,” said 9S as he entered the larger shared living space and made a quick gesture towards a wall mounted screen. It came to life showing a male android next to an image of the Sindri Shipyards orbiting Mars. The recently completed facility a slightly newer twin to the Brokkr by Earth. Still kind of surprised they let the colony there get authorization to build an entire shipyard.

Though as he thought it over more it made sense. The gradually growing population of androids on Mars had been quite insistent on developing the area, even after the destruction of the genetics labs on Phobos. With the threat of the Krogan and the sudden discovery of an entire galactic community they’d been granted the permission to do so. And had taken to it with surprising speed.

Though that image was soon replaced by something very different. The YoRHa emblem, proudly displayed as silver white on the black screen now appeared before him.

“Huh, I wonder what this is,” 9S said, raising the volume.

“-Earth and her people need you. But now more than ever it is important to remember what we fight for.”

“The sky.”

“The sea.”

“The land.”

Each image came in turn. Showing a live view of some aspect of Earth. The clouds, birds in flight passing in front of them. Then an ocean coast. Before diving into it and switching to footage of great schools of fish. Mostly organic but the scattered machine ones intermixed among them. And at last returning to the land. Showing green grass and trees, before zooming back to let the image of androids working to rebuild the long disused infrastructure of the Old World.

“But what do we fight against? The threat that Krogan could bring upon us. The destruction levied down on the worlds of our new allies.”

Krogan ships, in great number, filled the screen. 9S noted that it looked to have been edited from separate images. Likely multiple recordings to construct a more persuasive video.

“The Asari lost Lusia to the Krogan but thanks to their skill and tenacity took their world back.”

The green world, lush and verdant was displayed now. Switching to a scene of the Asari themselves, helmets off as they stood in attention before their commander. A few quick images of them helping with the post-occupation issues, helping injured civilians of their species out of rubble and into waiting medical shuttles, flashing one by one onto the screen.

The startling similarities in appearance between Asari and humans, and thus androids as well, would definitely draw some sympathy from any android watching.

“Though the Turians will never reclaim Tritus or Caevador. Both worlds were struck by highly accelerated asteroids, impacts driven by the Krogan and designed to break the spirit of the Turians.”

Two worlds were shown. Both once blue and green now transformed to ugly brown and grey. Enormous continent covering fires covered the night side of one, showing the ecosystem wrecking force of devastation that the Krogan’s attack had held.

“They failed.”

Now the destruction had been replaced, showing the gleaming fleet of Turian ships. More and more passing by the camera. Likely provided by the Turians themselves to show the most impressive view of their assembled space force.

“But thanks to the brave efforts of YoRHa forces the asteroid on course for Victonis was redirected. Narrowly saving an entire world and four million Turian lives from destruction.”

I remember hearing about that. Salarians told us that there might be another strike and we got there before the Krogans could get off their redirected asteroid. It had been a success, but a costly one. The ship had been destroyed and only a handful actually made onto the asteroid itself. But they’d managed to eliminate the Krogan still there and hold the engines till it was too late to correct the course back to Victonis.

The Krogan had proceeded to bombard the asteroid, hoping to kill anyone left. They’d very nearly succeeded. There’d been only a handful of survivors in the end.

“YoRHa needs more volunteers for extra-solar operations. The Alliance Reserves and Public Security are in full mobilization back home, but we can’t win a war by staying on the defense. Speak to a local representative or submit your paperwork at a terminal today.”

“For the Glory of Mankind.”

He was surprised that he almost said it right back to the screen. He shook his head as he turned the screen off. Though I guess it’s almost an instinct for me.

Though he found a new source of shock when he turned and saw 2B standing just to his side. Frowning, her eyes still focused on the once more blank screen on the wall.

“Hey 2B, I’m sorry I didn’t go looking for you. I figured you were still in the shower,” 9S said, his smile faltering as he noticed that she still had a very serious look on her face. Likely from what he had been watching when she had walked in. “I don’t think there’s much to worry about… the Krogan systems aren’t hardened nearly enough to slow us down.”

“Nines, I’m not- that’s not what I’m…” 2B paused. Finally looking at 9S instead of the screen, her frown vanishing as what could only be called determination replaced it. “I’m worried about how long this war might go on. The Krogan, the ones at the camp, they like to fight so much and they’re so young. How many will we have to kill to force their leaders to surrender? There are so many of them out there.”

“Don’t worry 2B,” 9S said, reaching down and taking hold of 2B’s right hand with his. “I’m sure they’ll stop once they realize they can’t win. I’ve ran the numbers with some of the aliens on size of the various fleets. Honestly, going by population and economy, the Asari should be able to take this on their own. But now the Krogan are fighting the Salarians and the Turians too. Along with our own increasing support.”

2B smiled now, her fingers intertwining with 9S’s. “You’re right. Once they realize that they’ll surrender. It would be crazy not to.”

Codex

Tales of the Machine Mother

Written by Dalatress Baerta in 730 BCE (10885 AD) this novel was once considered the standard for post-apocalyptic speculative fiction by the Salarians. Written entirely from the perspective of an AI ordered to terraform Sur’Kesh following a series of devastating solar storms from Pranas, it chronicles its multi-millennia attempt to do so. During the course of the story almost all biological life dies off from the disaster and the Salarians exposed to the radiation are rendered sterile, such that they had been forced to create a repository of genetic information of both themselves and Sur’Kesh’s flora and fauna for later recreation.

Errors in the preservation system resulted in the loss of many of the genetic samples, including the material necessary to produce new Salarians. Despite this it eventually succeeds, creating a synthetic version of the Salarians called Inheritors (the word used is Darwhal, an archaic term that combines the meaning of both ‘child’ and ‘survivor’) who would complete the final order given to the AI. As it had concluded that the historical and cultural data it had preserved could not alone be considered enough to represent the survival of the Salarians if there was no one to experience it.

One of the later lines of the novel “We are not dead till we forget the name of our mother” found life well outside of Baerta’s book, and had been used by some of the more traditional family lines as a blessing and form of farewell between first circle relatives.

Chapter Text

----: “Memory recall test number 7. Attention Unit.”

----: “Yes Director?”

----: “Confirm the current date.”

----: “It is the 23rd of December, 2031.”

----: “Two days from Christmas. Let’s see… tell me you if remember Christmas Eve 2015.”

----: “I had not yet been activated at that time.”

----: “I repeat the question; do you remember the Christmas Eve of 2015.”

----: “Yes.”

*ERROR*

ARCHIVE DELETED

ATTEMPTING DATA RECOVERY

FILES RECOVERED

CONTINUING PLAYBACK

----: “Please describe in detail where you were, what you were doing, and how you felt.”

----: “I was alone. In a dark room with a desk in front of me, a Newton’s cradle on the left side. There was a picture of someone in my hand. A woman.”

----: “Who was it a picture of?”

----: “I do not know.”

----: “Must not have been part of the-how did the picture make you feel?”

----: “I do not know.”

----: “You remember the damn office toy but not the emotions? Not her name?”

----: “This is not my memory.”

----: “…”

----: “How would you like me to feel?”

----: “Suspend test.”

Archive Data December 23, 2031. Participants UNKNOWN.

***

12146 March 6th

Judicator, Turian Dreadnought

The elevator reached its destination with tone and a click, the doors sliding open and revealing the command deck. Though given the size the actual control center lay at the end of the long hall before her. Stark white lighting and grey-blue coloration displaying sharp lines along the lower floor and serving to denote the numbers and letters that identified either service panels or rooms leading off.

With an updated translation system Admiral White, acting Commander of the YoRHa Expeditionary Fleet, had little trouble reading them as she passed. Storage room, adjunct meeting hall, lavatory… the names passed one after another. Along with the occasional Turian, who gave deference to her passage, showing a sign of respect to her presence among them that still unsettled her.

Less so now that she recognized the source.

It’s so strange to be treated this way by them. In part the still active counter information plan might have been the source of it. But even then, those that knew the truth didn’t hold their organic status over their Android allies. Or if they did they kept those thoughts private. I can’t know for sure what they’re thinking. They’re aliens after all.

With the Salarians and even the Asari, for how much they resembled ‘humans,’ they had fundamentally different societal organizations in part based on their radically divergent biology. While she’d been told that the Asari Republics were sufficiently diverse depending on the colony that some would have been quite familiar while others far more alien, the same could not be said about the Salarians. Certainly, both Androids and Salarians had divorced sexual attraction from reproduction, but they at least understood the concept of it on a personal level. The Salarian government, so tied with their family lines and unique features of both their physiology and reproduction, was not something that could have existed on Earth.

Humans simply wouldn’t have been capable of it and Androids would never even attempt to do so.

Though the machine lifeforms might have made an attempt if they’d had history books about a Salarian Dalatress to study. They tried every other form of government nearly.

But the Turians…

Two genders in relatively equal proportions. A lifespan close to that of Old World humans. Family structures and societal organization that ranged from identical to how most Androids lived to shockingly similar to how humans used to. Certainly they focused more on military service over civic duty, but even after hundreds of years of peace and rebuilding there were still many commonalities. Androids often kept their old weapons at home and Public Security maintained emergency drills in case of an attack. The Alliance ‘Reserves’ were effectively everyone alive, even if most of them were only trained enough to know where to go and who they were supposed to listen to for more orders.

The Turians probably saw the lingering aspects of the Machine Wars as positive traits. White couldn’t say she entirely disagreed, after thousands of years of practice at it any alien invader trying to put boots on the ground on Earth would be in for a nasty surprise, but she also longed for a return to the increasing levels of demilitarization they had been experiencing.

At least until the Krogan. White frowned, her right hand clenching tightly as she came at last to her destination. The Krogan had forced them back into full military focus. Thirty-six hour shifts at shipyards and a cessation of resources being allocated to Earth and terrestrial projects so more ships, more defenses, and more armaments could be produced. The total dedication to wartime industries had ground their previous economy to a halt and brought a windfall to those androids that had been allowed to take over as owners of factories they had once merely managed under the Army of Humanity. Even if they do have to provide supplies at the state approved cost they’re the only ones receiving raw materials to work with at the moment.

And as the door opened she beheld the source of their troubles. The holographic display of the Krogan’s home world projected above a large round table. Currently the attention of the sole occupant of the room.

Admiral Arguis Ostium, Commander of the Judicator and Leader of the Turian task force which White’s own far more modest forces were providing support. The freshly applied green paint of his home colony’s symbol a stark contrast to his grayish white exoskeleton. He looked up from his data pad as White entered, a slight inclination of his head before saying, “Glad you found your way here so quickly Admiral White. I understand this is your first time aboard a ship of this size. I’d offer you a tour but we don’t really have the time for that.”

“That’s fine. You have a fine vessel. Nothing like it in YoRHa,” White said. Internally thinking, For the moment at least. The Woden won’t be ready for service for another year.

The heavy-cruiser and fighter carrier was nothing but a frame over Earth orbit. The need to up-armor and redesign flight units had pushed back construction of the dreadnought in all but name by a full six months. But once it began operation the 800 meter long ship would be the most destructive single vessel to ever serve YoRHa or android forces.

“While I agree, you needn’t flatter me. This old ship is in desperate need of further upgrades to put it on the same level as the heavy dreadnoughts the Krogan use. But we don’t have time to wait.”

White nodded. This mission couldn’t be postponed. Tuchanka, the heart of the Krogan space, was open. They couldn’t lay claim to the skies for long, at most a few hours, but they could show the Krogan warlords that they would now have to choose between defending their most precious worlds or conducting offensive operations. And YoRHa had played no small part in bringing this about.

The Krogan dreadnought Rathor had been boarded by a YoRHa assault squad only a week ago. They hadn’t taken the ship but the ensuing battle had all but scuttled the vessel. With the intelligence reports coming in from STG forces and advanced listening buoys that the Salarian Union and Alliance technicians had produced, they now knew that the crippled dreadnought had limped back to shipyards in orbit over Tuchanka. The Krogan’s had spread themselves too thin, a fleet preparing at the Shanxi-Theta mass relay for another assault on the Sol system and another three heading towards Turian controlled space. Despite that they could only hold Tuchanka for a few hours before signals of distress spread wide and other Krogan forces came to their aid.

Unless they cut the transmissions off.

But that would defeat the entire point of this operation, White thought, coming to stand next to Arguis. “Less than 14 hours before we strike. Letting every Krogan world know that their fleets can no longer keep them safe from our reach.”

“And we can pay them back for what they’ve taken from us,” Arguis said. Breathing in sharply through his mouth, his righteous anger clearly displayed as he looked at the estimated fleet composition and likely locations. Courtesy of long range observation and the wealth of tactical knowledge at their disposal to estimate where the relatively weak garrison would be positioned. “For what they did to Tritus and Caevador. Thousand year old colonies. Turned into barren, burning rocks.”

“I doubt we could do the same to Tuchanka in the two hours we will be able to hold it.”

“Heh… would that we had that kind of power. No,” Agruis said, turning to look at White, “we can’t do that. We wouldn’t even if we could. We are better than them.”

White nodded, breaking eye contact with Agruis to look at the globe of Tuchanka. The few planet side constructions of note that weren’t also underground in the great vaults the Krogan had dug to survive their self-inflicted nuclear armageddon. Seven thousand years of war had not scarred their world as badly as the Krogans had theirs. Though the Old World humans had feared that they could have done something similar. Quite often given the many depictions of it in their entertainment media.

“Though,” Arguis said, letting the single word hang in the air as he walked away from White. Turning to gesture at the globe and all that it showed, before continuing, “Will they even notice another crater on their world?”

“I would say that they wouldn’t. Least not one that wasn’t created by repeated bombardment or the use of fusion warheads.”

“I agree. If a few strikes of kinetic bombardment were all it took to pacify the Krogan your troops wouldn’t need to be deployed nearly as often as they have. No… the Krogan might require something more severe to make them acknowledge the spear point posed upon their collective necks.”

“The Salarian’s special weapon?”

“The same. If we are to use it there would be no better starting point than Tuchanka to ensure maximum exposure.” He folded his arms across his chest, one finger tapping the side of his armor. “If we use it of course.”

He looked at White for a long time in silence. Clearly waiting for her to voice an opinion on the matter.

“That’s not really under my authority. While I and other members of YoRHa’s higher command have been briefed on it the Salarians offered the weaponized samples to your fleets first.”

“Yes… their ‘solution to the Krogan problem’,” Agruis said, lifting his hands up and making finger quote motions with his hands. “Don’t you think it convenient that they just happened to have something like that available? Something engineered specifically to affect the Krogan and no one else, to do so in such a diabolically specific manner, and already prepared for use in less than a decade. Honestly, if you had twice over your current fleet I wouldn’t have put it past them to offer the genophage to you first.”

“You suspect the Salarians already had the genophage completed before the rebellions began?”

“Don’t you?” Agruis stared at White, trying to read her emotions. Turning at last and stepping heavily to the table to place his hands upon it. “A weapon that will cripple the Krogan as a species, one that could easily have turned the tide of the war before we even got involved. Before Tritus. Before Caevador. And they were too cowardly to use it. Because if they not only made the weapon and deployed it themselves they knew the full extent of the Krogan military would be directed at them for however long it could last. They just needed to wait until someone else came along to pull the trigger for them.”

White felt an uncomfortable weight settle upon her. If having organic lifeforms defer to her as an allied superior officer had been odd being considered a worthy confident for secret misgivings between them was an entirely new level beyond even that. She quickly strangled the brief flash of fear, of hesitation, that came when she had to uphold the masquerade that they were organic as well. The slowly eroding lie that left the Krogan ignoring the most effective counter measures they could take and not attempting to make new ones as they had no idea as to the true nature of their opponents.

Arguis Ostium knew that truth and still trusted her to hear this.

“What are you insinuating?”

He looked at White, his mouth open slightly in a subconscious display of aggression before turning away and pacing back and forth. “I don’t know. I’ll probably never know. They’re the finest spies in the galaxy. Supposedly. Maybe they simply assumed the Krogan would attack us eventually. Maybe they knew when. Maybe they knew where…”

“They told us about the attack on Victonis.”

Arguis stopped, letting out a slight chuckle as he came to stand next to White again.

“Do you recognize Turian markings?”

White shook her head. “No. I understand they are unique to each colony.”

“These,” Arguis said, slowly moving his fingers along the colored lines on his face, “are the markings of Victonis.”

“I… I see.”

“You asked me why I wanted your opinion. Now you have the answer. If Victonis had gone the way of Tritus or Caevador… I really wouldn’t give a damn what you thought.”

She glanced to the side, once more taking in the image of Tuchanka. Of the Krogan’s home world. Of the planet they would soon arrive at.

“It seems like a drastic solution,” White said at last. “Such a powerful and dangerous weapon. Something engineered to so singular a purpose against an organic species. I find it… unsettling.”

“What the Salarians described,” Arguis said, speaking slowly as he choose each word carefully, “it sounds more like mythic plague than a bio-weapon. Culling their offspring like that…”

“We already are doing it for them,” White countered. “They send their young, not even a decade old at us by the hundreds. I find it deplorable.”

“Forgive me for asking, but didn’t your species do the same?”

“In a war of extermination certainly, but we’ve set new standards since then. It was determined for various reasons that no unit would be allowed into YoRHa until they had accumulated a least ten years of experiences,” White said, her anger serving to raise the volume of her voice. “That they serve their young to our blades is…”

“Inhumane? Yes it certainly is.”

White kept her vision steady, not letting the brief shock she felt show. It’s just how the translator works. ‘Unbecoming of the Turians’ or something.

“But they won’t be able to continue to do so once we use the genophage,” Arguis said. “It will destroy their capacity to fight not just for a generation but for all generations. They will give up their warlike ways or be destroyed. And all we will have to do is seed the skies of Tuchanka with it.”

White opened her mouth, just about to speak when Arguis spoke once more.

“And then there will be a gentle rain.”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about how this reminds me of scripture. Something written in the scrolls tended by the Valluvian Priests. ‘And there will be a gentle rain that washes the blood from the bones the old titans and thus shall they become the foundation of the next kingdom.’”

“That seems morbid.”

“I find that all religions tend to get that way when they speak of the end of the world,” Arguis said, turning from White to face the display once more. “And we are speaking of such. An ending at least. Not like what came to Tritus or Caevador. It won’t even hurt. Just… a snowfall. Of fine white dust that will evaporate into their breaths. The Krogan won’t even realize it’s there until it’s too late.”

White blinked, her mind suddenly focused on the image that Arguis had conjured. An achingly familiar pain forming at the edges of her consciousness-

***

She ran.

Footfall upon footfall, her heels digging into the loose soil that covered the city streets, limbs heavy and muscles burning. The sky was dead grey and the buildings that loomed beside her, stretching out as far as the eye could see, their jagged steel skeletons standing monumental among the ruins. The air was cold, each breath another surge of pain.

It was little wonder that she slipped, falling hard and sliding on the ground. Her knees scrapped on the hard asphalt and burned with new pain. While she cried out, screaming, inhaling the dirt that made her wounds burn. And spread the taste on her tongue as she hacked and coughed.

Salt.

Everywhere about her there lay piles of salt, the ground coated white and mounds of it cloistered against the doors of the ruined buildings. What she had thought to be snow was just more of it, drifting down from the cold winter breeze.

Somehow it made the city feel even deader, like more of a mausoleum. And herself more of an intruder, something that didn’t belong here, that had trespassed into some forsaken nightmare.

The grave of a civilization.

She didn’t belong here. Where ever here was. She couldn’t remember.

How had she come to here?

What had she been running from?

…

Who was she?

She rose up, standing on shaking legs. Her torn pants colored red from her blood as she took each uneasy step after uneasy step towards a building nearby. Her feet kicking up clouds of white dust, leaving deep indentations in the powder that blanketed the sidewalk.

But she had to know.

This building’s windows were intact after all.

Arms tightly clasped against herself, shivering from cold and pain, she leaned down. To gaze at her own reflection and-

***

She almost reeled back from the table.

How long… what was…

White turned to look at Arguis. He seemed to be intently waiting for her to offer some response. Nothing showed that he might have noticed her sudden and unexpected… episode.

“I… agree,” she said. Quickly turning away and closing her eyes.

The menu of her internal systems coming into view once she did, her mind moving from option to option as she brought up diagnostic screens. Body temperature normal. No memory faults detected. OS chip responding normally. The black box responding as…

No. It produced an anomalous signal 1.3 seconds ago. But how could code spontaneously generate without her consent or an outside transmission? That was impossible. That…

She needed to remain calm. Once she was back aboard the Siegfried she could have a technician analyze her consciousness data for irregularities. Just explain the need as part of her still less than regular maintenance schedule.

Actually, that might be the problem, White thought. Grasping onto that potential excuse as a lifeline. I’ve been very busy again and I haven’t had proper maintenance since… well at least two weeks. I think, I keep forgetting to even put it on the calendar.

Yes, she probably just suffered a bizarre form of memory fault. Nothing serious and certainly nothing to get alarmed over.

“Still we don’t need the genophage to win. Though I doubt I will live long enough to see the Krogan broken by conventional means,” said Arguis as he came to stand next to White once more. “But you will. Even if it takes the next two hundred years I’m certain we can grind the Krogans down. World by world, no matter how many of their young they throw at us, it will be inevitable.”

Even as the thought of another century or more of war hit White, she found herself thankful for the feeling of disgust she got while contemplating that. It served as such a wonderful distraction from whatever she had experienced moments before.

“That doesn’t seem like a desirable outcome Admiral Arguis.”

“Really? Your people fought the same enemies for over thirty times that length.”

“And I cannot imagine something worse. All the soldiers we will lose… all the ones you will lose. Entire generations that will come to be under the burden of a ceaseless conflict. I swore I would never sacrifice the lives of any androids on some frivolous cause ever again.”

“This war is not ‘frivolous’ White,” Arguis said. The tone of his voice dark. “Even if the Salarians may have hesitated to do what was necessary we have not given our lives in vain.”

“I apologize for misspeaking. I meant that indulging the Krogan was frivolous. Every time we do battle with the Krogan we are forced to slaughter their young. They send wave upon wave of themselves to wear down YoRHa ground forces… I grow tired of reading the causality reports.”

And seeing the haunted faces of our front-line combat units when they come back. White hesitated to say it aloud, even to one that knew that they were synthetic. But the disproportionate kill count that an android could build up was beginning to have an effect on morale. In the Machine Wars they could at least have believed, and for many years been right to do so, that they were for the most part obliterating unthinking, unfeeling, automatons. But the Krogan were self-evidently not like that.

Some members of YoRHa had become sympathetic, even going into battle without backups. Not because they had deep a personal belief or disliked the system. But because they had started to believe it ‘unfair’ that they fought enemies who had but one life to give.

Not that the opposite reaction was any better. She’d already told lower ranking officers to pay attention to any androids that had inured themselves to the piles of bodies they made by dismissing the Krogans, and potentially organic life in general, as something they didn’t have to worry about. While she understood the coping mechanizing it represented, she had far too many bad memories of the maddening rationalizations some of the E-types had come up with to justify their actions. That kind of behavior was in some ways far worse than the alternative and far harder to fix.

It still amazed her that 2B had come out of the war as stable has she had.

“I understand,” Arguis said his anger absent from his voice. “I can’t stand to look at them myself. But I do anyway. They deserve it. Still… would you lay this judgment on the Krogan?”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little excessive in your language?”

“No. We will fly over their world in a kilometer long ship, too great to even make a planetary landing. Were we to even try it would look like the one of the titans the Velluvian Priests spoke of, striding across the land. And in the Judicator’s storage there are hundreds of canisters prepared for atmospheric dispersal of a weapon that will kill countless scores of the Krogan’s young before they are even born.” He kept his gaze steady, intensely so, upon White’s own. “Forgive my ‘excessive’ language, but on this operation I feel less like a soldier and more like a wrathful god come to bring devastation upon an entire world.”

“Being able to destroy a species doesn’t make you a god.”

“I’d beg to differ. Or at least my experience with ancient Turian texts on the subject has failed to come up with anything more imaginative that would disqualify one that could,” Agruis said as he looked away at last, once more onto Tuchanka. Which after a simple touch on the controls shrank down to something that could have been held in his hand as the holographic display now showed the planet in miniature and their lines of probable approach. “Still, you haven’t told me your opinion on the matter. Whether we should keep fighting as we are… or take up tactics and weapons more befitting divinity.”

“Does my opinion really matter so much to you?” White asked, desperate to read Arguis’s intentions from his face. And finding herself unable to truly tell. Despite that she knew the right answer, the correct one, what was rational and logical and would cut the war in half or more. That would prevent so many deaths… and cost the Krogan’s very little more.

They were determined to feed their children into the jaws of battle, and whether these generations were lost to the genophage or Turian and YoRHa soldiers mattered rather little on the whole. They would be dead all the same.

Yet for some reason she hesitated to say it. To voice the obvious answer. Why?

She’d never had that problem before.

But look where that got you. Commander White… how many executions did I authorize because it was the obvious answer? She glared at the display before her, hating what this question reminded her. Hating the Krogan for laying such a weight upon her.

Hating herself for having such regrets in her past.

No matter what she had sworn not to let androids die pointlessly. And this, this entire war was so pointless. The Krogan could not win. Not against the entire galaxy. Their defeat was an inevitable fact, and the longer the war dragged on the more lives would be lost in order to prove it to them.

“I would do what it takes to win. Even if it were… regrettable. Even if it might haunt me for the rest of my life. I refuse to let a war drag on endlessly. Not now, and not ever again.”

“So be it,” Arguis said. Dismissing the display at last and plunging the room into deeper shadows. “Tomorrow we make for Tuchanka. Tomorrow we pass judgment on the Krogan for their crimes. Tomorrow we become as gods.”

Codex

Alliance Forces,

YoRHa Space Fleet

Woden, Carrier-Dreadnought

800 meters long and carrying a full division of fighter craft in the form of modified eezo core equipped flight units. Combined with its main gun and a full eight secondary Maso derived weapon systems it mounted the most comprehensive weapon system of any single vessel at the time of its original launch. Later GARDIAN systems would be modeled after Woden’s initial design in the decades to follow as it set the standard for close range area of denial.

It has since been modified with numerous upgrades including the first applied use of what would eventually become the defining feature of Alliance military spaceships. Using a Maso system to discharge the drive’s buildup into parallel universes. Thus allowing constant use of the FTL drive without having to dock or discharge against a planet’s magnetic field. Though in the Woden’s case the extreme size of the ship made this mechanism a costly and time consuming affair, the concept has allowed YoRHa space ships to be the most constantly mobile in the galaxy.

Chapter Text

Part 17

12146 March 6th

Karhal, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Ship

Currently Hidden in the Shadow of Vaul’s largest moon

Hunkered on the far side of Vaul, the gas giant between them and Tuchanka, a sleek grey-white frigate lay in hiding. Their mission thus far complete, they now had only to wait until the fleet moved in and engaged the paltry garrison that yet remained around the Krogan’s home world.

A dozen heavily armored cruisers in various levels of repair and twice that number of frigates. Most of the defenses were in the form of well armored defense platforms orbiting the world.

Which we’ve had time to compromise. Zelos turned away from the forward viewport and bent down to pass under the lower entrance of the Salarian made vessel. It was a mild annoyance for an Asari- or an Android for that matter, but one that they simply had to endure. The Karhal’s exceedingly costly and experimental use large liquid helium reserves could only mimic the concept of stealth, but at the considerable distance they currently held it had allowed them to coast into the Aralakh system and take up position around Vaul without alerting the Krogan. They hadn’t dared fire their engines until the heat signature could be hidden by the gas giant itself, and once that nerve-wracking adjustment to their velocity had been made they had had little to do for the last week but make the preparations for the coming invasion. Just a little longer and we can meet up with them and get out of this system at long last. I’ll be glad to have a less stressful mission after this one.

Though most of that work had been done by others, namely the Androids that had handled the electronic infiltration. Along with an entire team of Salarian STG members and attack program specialists.

One of whom Zelos could hear speaking as she entered the commons area. Dropping down the tight access shaft she saw Vercul Aran had become engaged in yet another argument.

Though the current target for his discussion was surprising.

“You have to admit that it represents an extreme escalation.”

“Compared to what? Scorching planets clean of life is apparently a fair tactic as far as the Krogan are concerned,” A2 said, holding out her right arm so that Pod 153 could make another adjustment to the omni-tool attachment around her wrist. “If we weren’t ‘escalating’ with the weapon your people provided we’d likely get to watch a relativistic rock turn half of Tuchanka into a roaring inferno.”

“That would be absurd. There is no way that an attack on the ecology of a habitable world like that would be authorized by any of our commanding officers.” Vercul had stood up, pacing now as he continued to speak. “We haven’t even authorized use of the genophage!”

“Then you shouldn’t have given it out as a weapon system. All the Krogan have done since the threat of biological weapons was brought up was tell us ‘To do our worst.’ Frankly, I think you’re being foolish to think there was ever an alternative once you gave the genophage to the Turians.” A2 brought her arm back at a signal from the pod and touched the display. Pleased to see that the systems were sufficiently synchronized if she needed to use her spotty hacking skills at some time in the future. “Not that it would be any different if you’d offered it to us instead. I know the admirals and all of them would have used it eventually.”

“We’re talking about the near sterilization of an intelligent species! It… it’s an absurd violation of their personal integrity. The worst thing to happen to the Krogans since their own nuclear exchange,” Vercul said. Pausing, looking down to the floor as he began to pace faster before continuing, “Perhaps even worse than what we’ve already done to them.”

“Oh here it comes… more of this BS guilt trip. You gave them a ticket off the radioactive shitheap they’d made for themselves and you feel bad about it?” A2 shook her head as she said, “Why? Just because you then conscripted them to fight the Rachni? I mean, I’ve made friends with the weird bugs and all, but don’t think that there aren’t a lot of lines you’d be willing to cross in a war of extermination.”

A2’s look became colder, eyes narrowed as she leaned forward. Vercul freezing in his movement as she spoke again.

“You don’t have any idea how far you’re willing to go until you really stand at the edge of extinction.”

Vercul’s skin paled to a whiter grey as he stumbled over his words, trying to find his voice. Tossing his hands wide at last as he said, “No! I didn’t- not like that. We needed the Krogan and their service against the Rachni was not wrong. But what we did afterwards… we abandoned our responsibilities.”

“How are you responsible for them? They’re not children Vercul.”

“They may as well be. They were living as destitute tribal factions, barely knowing how to keep gunpowder weapons functioning when we found them. We gave them better guns, better ships, the capacity to turn their species’ rapid population growth into a legion of warriors to drown the Rachni in blood and bodies… but we didn’t help them. Even with the evidence of how much work, how much time we would need to guide the Krogan into a peaceful future evident in the clicking of every radiation detector… we simply didn’t bother.”

“What the Krogan became isn’t your fault… you weren’t even born then.”

“So?”Vercul turned, glaring at A2, his anger needing some outlet. “We Salarians live such short lives. But we pride ourselves on our intellect… on our dynastic legacies guiding us to see the long picture. But when it really mattered, when we could have made a real difference, we choose to be just as short sighted as we always feared. The Salarians that uplifted the Krogan simply assumed it would be someone else’s problem. And then the ones that came next did too. Generation after generation. We turned the Krogan into this.”

“What then? You think we shouldn’t use the genophage? That we should spend the next century carving a path to victory over the millions… the billions, of Krogans that will come to fight us for each and every world we claim? That will breed rapidly on each occupied planet, putting more and more of a strain on the occupying forces?”

“I… I don’t know! I don’t know what to do A2. I’m not- I’m just a computer security specialist. All I know- all I believe is that if we,” he pointed at his own chest, lower center right where his heart was to emphasize his point, “If we had handled the Krogan appropriately at the time none of this would be happening now. We gave the Krogan the means to ensure their own destruction… and now we are damned to be the ones that bring it about. It is our failure that has created this scenario.”

There was a long moment of silence. Zelos had almost considered speaking up when A2 broke it at last. A sharp, bitter laugh when she did.

“Ha… so,” A2 spoke slowly, coming to stand, her head almost touching the low ceiling of the room in which they stood,” let’s think about this. You know where I came from… where my people came from Vercul. And while ‘uplifting’ isn’t really the right term for it, the Humans left a lot of interesting things behind when they died. Yet despite that, despite seven thousand years of war, we didn’t ruin our world. The trees still grow, the birds still fly, and the fish still swim upon the Earth. Even in a total war of extermination we recognized that we would have to live there when it ended.”

“Your point A2?” Vercul asked.

“My point is, if a bunch of… soulless,” A2 let the word hang for moment, taunting Vercul with a self directed insult he would never dare to voice, “automatons can do that, why do the Krogan deserve your pity?”

“You shouldn’t say that…”

“I’ll say whatever I want about myself.” A2 folded her arms, gazing down at Vercul as she waited for his response. “You still haven’t told me why the Krogan deserve such special consideration. If they keep courting death like this, why should we try and save them from their own self-inflicted destruction?”

He didn’t speak, breaking eye contact with A2 and looking to the side.

“Is it because they’re organic? Would you spare so much concern for my world if we had gone the way of the Krogan? If a Salarian ship had found a radioactive rock, the skies burned and the oceans boiled away… just scattered remnants of our armies barely hanging on after one, last, pyrrhic battle for the fate of Earth.” She loomed over him, still as a statue as she spoke, waiting for him to give her the answer she sought. “Would you have cared about our lives? Or would a new force of aliens have descended and taken what little of our technology might have been left and abandoned us to rot in the grave we had dug with our own hands and-“

“No! It’s not just… I,” Vercul stopped talking, glaring up at A2 as he mustered his courage and tried to find the words within him. “The Krogan aren’t any more special than anyone else. That’s the point of it all. We took advantage of a sentient race, emboldened their worst traits because it suited us at the time, and then abandoned them to continue on as they were. We knew the Krogan were likely to be a problem in the future, and we left that cost in the future.”

“And here we stand, paying for your people’s choices.” A2 shook her head, saying, “I’m not sure what you have to feel sorry for. As far as I can tell not looking at the long view is pretty damn universal. Humans used to do that, plenty of Androids still do, and I guess Salarians aren’t any different.”

“But we should be. We can be. This… this war is as much our fault as the Krogan’s and what we’re doing…”

“What? You think we shouldn’t? How many lives are you willing to spend to pay for this mistake you think the Salarian uplift caused? Millions have already died in just a decade of fighting. How many more if we hold back?”

*Consider also that the Krogan do not share your moral scruples Vercul Aran. They have not hesitated to use any and every weapon available to them and will continue to do so.*

Vercul looked from A2 to Pod 153. Struggling to find an argument against the cold logic they presented. Finally looking down in defeat. But his voice still was still determined when he said, “That may be. It’s the ‘rational’ choice. The way of minimal loses for both ourselves and the Krogan. But that doesn’t wipe away either our responsibility or the cost of it. We can’t afford to ignore what we are about to do. We can’t just… walk away from this and never look back. We need to learn from our mistakes or we will just end up repeating them.”

“You’re an incurable optimist Vercul,” A2 said, a slight smile on her face. “The only way anyone changes is if they want to… and I don’t know if Krogan do.”

***

12 Hours Later

They hurtled through the void, over sixty ships. A tide of steel outrunning the wake of light. The forward sensors of the Krogan had been compromised and they would exit from FTL only a hundred thousand kilometers from the outer limit of Tuchanka proper. As the blueshift faded into visible light the Krogan’s home world appeared. A small brownish dot.

Their destination.

“Are all systems green?” White asked.

“Yes Commander. We’ve already locked onto the pre-existing weaknesses that the forward team found and those they installed. We’re ready to begin compromising the Krogan systems at your command.”

“Hold until we get into engagement range. We can’t give them anytime to try some countermeasure.”

She gave no more orders. Instead the dreadful seconds counted down, their movement through the void taking them closer and closer to the origin of the Krogan. Her ship, her ships, but a fraction of the full fleet. Half a dozen among the multitude. But what they provided would be priceless. By the might of their exotic weapons, and more importantly, their hard earned skill at quick system compromising they would nearly double the effective strength of the attacking fleet.

Their lasers out ranged anything common and viable for use outside of testing grounds by thousands of kilometers, and while the heavy armor of many Krogan ships made them ineffective at the outer limits and the large mass drivers kept their own slimmer ships from getting close, they now had accurate schematics of Krogan vessels. Sensors, weapon systems, and more; all could be targeted and rendered so much scrap in rapid succession from relative safety among the swarm of the Turian’s own ships.

But more important by far was their electronic warfare contribution.

In mere moments fighter craft and VI controlled targeting systems would come online. From the Krogan’s ships, the defense platforms, and even unmanned drones. And all would face the brunt of YoRHa’s offensive attack programs. The teams of Androids and AI support pods already stood awaiting the moment where they would infiltrate through the openings probed or created by the forward team of specialists from Special Tactics and Reconnaissance.

With no small amount of help on their own part there as well.

The Krogan would have to rely completely on their own organic reflexes, their communication between ships would come to a shuddering stop, and those enormous defense guns would go silent.

“’Every battle is won before it is fought’,” White said, almost silently whispering the words of a long dead human. Though as she saw the first of their electronic infiltration teams begin she thought to herself, Provided we are the ones that prepared well enough.

Even if she had no memory of it, she knew she had once been dealt a terrible loss at the moment she believed victory to be inevitable.

“Comms are down Commander. The Krogan are switching over to wider radio chatter now that they know we infiltrated their secure channels,” one Android said, a hint of pride in his voice.

*Confirmed. Note, the Krogan have launched fighter craft. With our infiltration of defense systems targeting at this range will be possible. Advise long range laser engagement.*

“Acknowledged Pod 714. Pass the command to all ships to forward the expected motions to the Turian vessels. At their response begin targeting any survivors that move into an unexpected path.” White looked down at the view screen, the magnified image of the Siegfried’s long range sensors showing the fast moving dots of the Krogan fighter craft alongside the live video feed of those tiny dots, engines burning hot and fast as they approached.

They were careening towards their deaths.

Do they know that? White felt that hesitation again. A heaviness to her limbs that was caused by some sort of emotional trepidation. Even if they do, they have no idea what they are bravely giving their lives to stop.

“Confirmation with Turian Fleet Command. All weapons armed. Firing now!”

The hail of death crossed the void. Streaks of light from mass driver slugs penetrating through Krogan fighters one by one. Their brief combustion in the cold dark captured one by one before her eyes as they were silenced. Those lucky few, those quick enough to change direction and avoid the seemingly endless waves of fire from the Turian ships…

Were cut down moments later. Gleaming red, near invisible save for the slight bleed off of from their Maso based energy projectors in the vacuum of space, which itself was only clear closer to their ship. Till they impacted each remaining fighter in turn. Accurate, precise…

And sweeping the entirety of her vision clean of anything that stood before them.

“All fighter craft terminated. They haven’t launched any more yet.”

*Hypothesis: The Krogan will hold off on releasing more fighters until we are within range of their defense platforms to provide covering fire.*

That had been at least nine full squadrons. Two hundred ships eradicated within moments of engagement. And that would be only the start of it.

They should already be receiving oncoming fire from the heavy guns of the defense platforms, the Krogan’s orbiting battle stations about their home world. But the assistant targeting systems were dead. Burned out and basically electronic corpses merely locking up their systems while the Krogan themselves frantically worked to bring up manual firing options.

Only to find even those targeting sensors compromised. Set to give minute yet crippling false positives for their current location.

The only system that wasn’t hacked into was the Krogan’s own eyes. But trying to fight a fleet engagement with that alone was a crippling disadvantage. The Krogan could have outnumbered their fleet by half again and still lost. Instead they held the numbers disadvantage too.

It wouldn’t be bloodless, but this would go far worse for the Krogan.

Even if you had kept to the higher ground and refused to poison their young.

White’s fist clenched hard, the joints strained as the warning alarm of pain streaked through her senses.

No. There’s no point in second guessing. No point in looking back. They could not afford to let the war drag on. Earth was far from Council space, close enough to the regions of the galaxy the Krogan claimed and explored that it would have taken only one errant warlord, one fleet of adequate size, to seize the system and burn their world from orbit.

Like Tritus.

Like Caevador.

Like what had almost happened to Victonis.

They had but one world. Ever so precious to them. To lose it now…

This is not our fault. White’s inner voice burned with a grim, desperate, determination. The decision had been made, and it had never truly been in her hands in truth. Now it was merely time to move forward. There’s no point in over thinking it now. No place for regret here.

Their ship shuddered, the kinetic barriers taking the force of a projectile from a Krogan ship. No damage, not to her vessel. No longer were they universally the weaker vessels. And already larger Turian cruisers were moving into range, releasing an unending tide of fire into the Krogan armada. The lasers of the YoRHa ships penetrating straight through and carving out the gun placements of the orbiting defense platforms. Only the more mobile ships, hidden in the throng of combat avoided their surgically precise attacks. Destruction, not disabling, would be their reward.

Already blossoms of fire, great colorful flashes of silent light appeared as some unfortunate ships met their end early.

They were not even within a thousand kilometers and already the fight was nearly decided. Each time the Judicator turned its enormous guns upon a solitary Krogan warship they were done for. And with comms compromised, their defensive systems feeding them details even as the Krogan physically destroyed the connections to stop it, they had gutted any sort of overarching strategy.

It was going so well.

“Commander! A large vessel is coming out of the Krogan fleet… it’s the Rathor?”

“There’s no way it was already repaired?”

White leaned over, magnifying the view screen. There were no networked systems coming from the Krogan dreadnought. Nor was it firing. It looked damaged, heavy outwardly exploded sections from the YoRHa assault squad’s earlier effort to take it clear before her. Yet there it was, propelling towards them as they in turn came finally into orbit above Tuchanka.

She could see that the kinetic barriers had been repaired, both from their own deflected impacts and the weaker shots being fired up from the Krogan home world itself seemingly at complete random. And with the enormously thick armor front sided towards them laser penetration would take ages to burn through and hit anything of importance.

But with no weapons, no main gun, it was nothing more than a large and pointless target.

“Missile launch… from the Rathor? No it’s from nearly half the Krogan fleet!”

Their sensors showed the fast climbing count as the oncoming barrage grew and grew. Well beyond what their defensive systems could reasonably intercept. Hundreds, thousands of incoming missiles. Likely close to everything the Krogans had to offer in a single overwhelming volley of incoming rocketry. Not even all of the same class, some had already broken apart into independently targeted warheads that streaked ever closer. The majority clearly aimed towards the center of the Turian fleet and the dreadnought located there.

“Target as many as you can. Make use of fratricide to take out the rest by pre-mature detonation,” White yelled out. More for her own sake then necessity. Everyone knew how important it was to stop the incoming munitions.

“I’m in! And I… what?”

“What is it?”

“There’s nothing here… it’s like they fired a- oh no.”

“What is it?” White asked again, more forcefully.

*Alert: Admiral White, based on network response the majority of the incoming missiles have no warhead or detonation system. They have launched dummy missiles loaded with independent electronic systems using randomized encryption protocols.*

“Find the real missiles,” White said. Her voice steady despite the rising panic as encroaching swarm drew ever closer. The Rathor itself pressing forward behind that, shrouded from time to time by the thermonuclear detonations of the missiles when they picked one among the many that had an active warhead. “Find them now!”

“I’m trying! They’re not networked together even though it looked like it. They must have been setting up a system of multiple redundant networks to act as distraction against us just for this-“

“I don’t care about the particulars, find and-“

White stopped yelling commands. The realization coming suddenly that there was no way to accurately pick the real missiles from the fakes. Instead she opened another comms channel, broadcasting to any flight units that had already been deployed.

“Standard defense protocols are not working. You are ordered to engage the missiles at close range and attempt to destroy as many as you can.”

Now it would be their fighters dying. Though many would have backups, hopefully all, but they would still die. The close range engagement and use of lasers would force them to face the brunt of each detonation when it occurred.

Unfortunately they had only begun to launch flight units when the missiles were fired. Too few were out to stop the full number; too few to pick through the countless fakes and find the real ones that would reward them with swift annihilation moments later.

And already they had closed the distance, their own forward motion bringing them into danger ever quicker. The first ship struck by half a dozen, dummy missiles slamming into the kinetic barrier as useless slugs. Before one armed warhead among their number impacted. And the Turian frigate vanished in a corona of nuclear fire.

The expanding cloud of debris joining the innumerable mass driver shots impacting the Rathor as it continued to accelerate towards them, just behind the missiles themselves. Even as their own lasers, missiles, and smaller fighter craft intercepted what they could. The encroaching explosions growing closer and closer as the Krogan drove into them with all that they had.

From the ground it would have looked like the night sky had been set aflame. Followed by countless streaks of fire, long lines drawn from the fragmented parts of destroyed ships raining down upon Tuchanka. Mostly their own ships, but as the Krogan became more desperate, more suicidal in their defense, they notched up each and every costly kill that they could.

But the greatest was to come now. Even as nearly half of its thick armor melted off, enormous cratering wounds driven deep into the bulk of its frame; the Rathor continued to accelerate towards them. Unable to fully move out of the way in the time remaining, unable to chart a path not filled with possibly active missiles still being picked off one by one; the two dreadnoughts were posed to strike one another.

Just as the Krogan intended. Even as the last shot from the Judicator bored straight through the frontal armor of the Krogan dreadnought and continued on into the depths of space, it came at last careening into their midst. The side strike of the two behemoths, the brief and lacking effort of the Turian’s own kinetic barriers to hold off close to a million tons. And then the tearing destruction as the two tumbled past each other.

Shrouded in fire, the missiles still detonating around the two titanic vessels, and soon to be bathed in flames as the arc of Tuchanka itself rose up to met them. From the Turians White could already see escape pods launching, their crippled ship now unable to correct its inevitable descent into the planet’s gravity well. The Rathor launched none. If there were still crew alive upon it, they intended to follow their ship into its catastrophic landing on Tuchanka’s surface. Unlike the less armored Turian’s they might even land in one piece.

Little solace as they would all certainly die from re-entry.

Oh no…

They weren’t the only things going down though. As the Turian dreadnought began to tumble, their engines no longer firing correctly, many of the escape pods took unhealthy trajectories. Some would burn up, brilliant and final flashes of light.

Others might make it to the surface.

And among the expanding cloud of debris another vessel faltered. Too close to one of the detonations, and now battered by wreckage as their kinetic barriers failed. The Dubin, the now up-armored recon ship turned frigate from the first contact, also had been pushed into a barely controlled descent. With proper use of barrier programs and some luck they might survive the crash…

But then they would be stuck on Tuchanka.

And their only mission from there would be to die while leaving as little for the Krogans to recover as possible.

“Commander?”

“Yes?” White asked, turning from the view screen to see her comms officer standing at her side. “What is it?”

“The Krogan fleet has been broken. The Turian ships are moving into formation for the release of the weapon…” She hesitated, unsure of her next words. But at last looking up and meeting White’s eyes as she said, “As the highest acting officer on site now they are requesting the final order for release and retreat.”

White froze, for but an instant, but that moment seemed to stretch outward into eternity. The realization that she would be the one to-

***

Push the button.

The Wall of Jericho had been breached. Whatever they were, it seemed they came without end. Living corpses perhaps, but too smart, too vicious for that alone. They were organized.

And they seemed to desire little more than to kill without pause or hesitation.

So now it had come to this. Another bomb dropped upon Japan. Partially at the request of some of the military there this time. Though much of the civilian government still sought some other answer, any other solution that could be found to halt these monstrous invaders from another world.

But none was to be had.

They would drop the bomb on Shinjuku. Killing all there, whether they be the sick or the transformed.

“God have mercy on our souls,” she said, flipping up the last safety, her finger against the trigger.

That would-

***

-that would damn them all.

No… no, we will not…

There were still some survivors, escape pods from the Judicator, the crashing wreck of the Dubin. They couldn’t leave them behind to die like that.

“Hold our positions,” White said at last. “Hold the skies for as long as we can. And find a ship ready and capable enough to make landfall for the time we have.”

“Commander?”

“We will not leave anyone behind.” White turned to look over the entire bridge crew before speaking again. “We have two hours before the Krogan can send reinforcements. Two hours to rescue as many as we can. Once that window of opportunity is gone, then we will leave. But not before.”

You’re only delaying it White. It’s too late to stop it. Too late to change course now. White closed her eyes, fighting down her own misgivings. Strangling the rebellious thoughts as they formed. This was not the time for weakness of nerve. I will do what is necessary. Regret is a luxury for the victor, for the survivor.

And she intended for there to be as many of those as possible.

Once the battle was over, they were headed clear of Tuchanka though…

She definitely needed to see someone about her personal maintenance.

Chapter Text

Part 18

95 Minutes Remaining to Krogan Reinforcements

***

Her body wracked with pain. Those were the first sensations to come to her when consciousness returned. The left side had been partially crushed, her arm a mangled mess of torn flesh and twisted metal. The inner cables pulled loose when she had struggled free herself from some of the wreckage and dripping crimson oil as she moved.

Frankly she was lucky to survive at all.

They all were.

Our inertial dampeners must have stayed on for at least part of re-entry. As well as their kinetic barriers coming back online at some point and the emergency barrier brought up as they skimmed across the atmosphere of Tuchanka holding out long enough for their velocity to be brought down to something sensible. That they were anything less than a streak of fire across the sky was nothing short of a miracle.

Not that they hadn’t lost many.

“I need a count of survivors and I need it six seconds ago,” 1D yelled out as she pulled herself up towards the hallway leading away from the ruined bridge of the Dubin. “How many made it?”

“Ah… twenty-four. In some state or another Captain.”

Damn. A third of her crew dead. Unless… no, I’ll save my hope for when we’re off this rock.

If they got off it.

“Can we pull backups from the ship’s servers?”

“I… yes. I think so,” another technician said from where they were hunkered over a ruined console. Their Support Pod serving to project a display for them now that the screen was gone.

“But that’s all we can do. Our systems are too damaged to record consciousness data at this time.”

“Transfer everything you can to a high density memory core,” 1D said. Closing her eyes for a moment as she prepared to issue her next order. “And then burn the server.”

“C-Captain… I can’t pull-“

“I don’t want to know how much you can pull out right now. But we can’t afford to let the Krogan get technical details and program files. Or potentially copies of android memory data saved on a server. I don’t need to tell you why that would be bad. Copy everything and… everyone you can get off of it. And then melt the servers down.”

“Yes captain.”

I’m sorry. I hope… whoever you are, if any of us survive… you can forgive me. 1D shook her head. She didn’t have time to think about such things. There was a protocol to follow if they lost a YoRHa ship. In truth burning up in the atmosphere would have been preferable. Nothing would have been left and whatever traces of the Maso would have been scattered across the horizon.

Instead they now had the unenviable job of ensuring total eradication of their own systems personally. Whether program data or fragments of an android’s own memories… all of it would need to be erased from any system the Krogan might be able to infiltrate. They were even going to have to re-install self-destruct programs into themselves. Designed for a lower yield than those that were used back in the war, but more focused by far as the point wasn’t really to kill anyone else. But to make sure absolutely nothing useful was left behind of their own bodies.

It wasn’t perfect, after all if the Krogan killed them first it wouldn’t do anything, but it should minimize the risk.

Besides, I doubt any of us want to have are bodies pulled apart regardless of the danger it might put our comrades in later.

She had just been about to give that order when their support pod registered an incoming signal. It was staticky, barely coherent at first. But gradually cleared up into something they could make sense of.

“This is- -speaking do you acknowledge?”

“Yes! This is Captain 1D. We’ve crash landed and require assistance.” She couldn’t believe their luck. If we can get a strong enough signal we can just transfer our data up to another ship’s server.

“Good. Our ship is landing some two kilometers from your location. We need to know if you can get to our landing position or not.”

“Wait? That’s what you want us to do? Run across the surface of Tuchanka?”

“Yes. The heavy radiation clouds combined with one of the light diffusing weather control stations nearby are creating too much interference for your laser communication system to function. You’ll have to physically get to our location.”

“I see…”

She turned away from the projected screen. Her crew, those that had survived, were mostly intact. They had a few support pods, what weapons and gear they could salvage. Their flight units had been a total loss though, the hanger burned during re-entry and what hadn’t been damaged by that likely crushed during their landing. Worst of all she was herself better equipped and trained for squad level combat encounters than the younger technician and support staff.

But with one good arm and spotty signals from her NFCS she wouldn’t be much good in a fight. It wasn’t completely hopeless. There were a few support models that had survived the impact with either minimal damages or what could be repaired in the short time they took before leaving. Copying memory data, what little tragically might be salvageable in the time allowed, and destroying the ship’s systems afterwards to keep any sensitive information from falling into the Krogan’s hands.

While it might be possible to pull something up from a dead android without knowing their native system architecture, it would be a damn sight harder than sifting through saved info.

The other issue was something far more distressing. The ship, or at least the wreck that remained, needed to be destroyed.

“Pod 202, I’m authorizing the initialization of self-destruct protocols,” 1D said. “For myself.”

“Captain?”

“I’m already injured and would only slow your retreat down. Further, this is my command. I don’t intend to leave someone else to handle this.”

“But… but what about a warhead?” Madeline, a support type, asked a staunching gel applicator in her left hand. “Or setting the reactor to overload or…”

1D just shook her head. “What missiles we had were damaged during landing and the reactor went into an emergency shutdown. We’d have to repair it just so we could make it explode now.

There’s no other option with the time left.”

*Proposal: Captain 1D should request a support pod to remain with her so-*

“Proposal denied. You don’t have time to engage the Krogan as you retreat. You’ll need as much help and as many methods of long range defense as possible.”

Her surviving crew clearly wanted to argue the point. But there was a cold logic to this decision.

***

87 Minutes Remaining to Krogan Reinforcements

“We have over seven kilometers to cover,” Zelos said, her blue skin lit in darker hues from the projected map from her omni-tool. Currently the only source of light cast upon the varied forms of the assembled crew of their vessel. “And less than an hour to insert and extract from the hot zone. The Krogan will be out there too, picking through the wreckage and soon enough they’ll realize that there might be some intact escape pods among the debris raining down over radiated salt planes west of the tertiary atmospheric control tower.”

The display re-oriented, showing the enormous kilometers tall structure near which the shattered bulks of the crashing dreadnaughts had fallen. Enormous craters and canyons cut across the barren landscape. Of which many would now be quite altered by the ensuing impacts.

The very map itself redrawn as yet another war tore apart the surface of the Krogan’s homeworld. Though this time the majority of the devastation would not be self-inflicted.

“Luckily their numbers and organization will be less rigorous than those we fought for dominance of the skies. Younger warriors, some barely blooded, coming out from the underground vault cities where most of the Krogan population of Tuchanka lives. But don’t let that make you underestimate them. What they might lack in experience they will more than make up for in both numbers and drive.”

“We’ll split into five teams for this operation. The first will be lead by myself. Our task will be to secure the extraction zone and hold off any Krogan that might attack. In addition to providing a makeshift medic area to provide care for anyone that is injured while we wait for the other teams to finish their own missions.”

A number of Salarians had already set aside for this part of the mission, joined by some of the Android volunteers. Namely those whose skills were decidedly not geared towards frontline fighting or combat when the enemy was using infantry tactics and low tech measures for communication.

“Squad’s Aleph and Beta will the secure distress signals within a two kilometer perimeter, while also providing advance warning of any Krogan groups as they approach. The atmospheric debris of Tuchanka make drones unreliable on good days, and the wreckage of a pair of kilometer long dreadnaughts just fell from over head. We only have a few of the pod systems with integrated support intelligences so direct observation will be needed. Do not engage if they have an advantage in terrain or numbers. We’ll have enough wounded to worry about. Instead wait for your backup team to flank them and provide an aggressive retreat while you fall back towards the ship buying time for the other two teams.”

Zelos turned from the two mostly Asari groups to face one entirely of Salarians. A requirement given the cramped size of the vessel they would be using.

“Gamma will have our support shuttle, and will hit the more outlying signals as quickly as possible. They will not engage the enemy unless absolutely forced too, instead using their increased mobility to find the wounded or to conform fatalities from distress beacons before quickly returning to our location before the Krogan can put shoot them down. Low lying flight will be a requirement to avoid detection as we can’t be certain to shoot every hostile airborne target down given the sensor issues from Tuchanka’s atmosphere.”

“Finally, Delta will take our APC and make a direct trip towards the Dubin crash site, meeting up with the surviving crew from there approximately three quarters of the way from here and then escorting them back to our own vessel for extraction. Normal procedures for evacuation of Android personal won’t work because of Tuchanka’s atmosphere. And even ignoring the issue of loss of life, allowing the Krogan to confirm certain issues would be highly problematic to our current strategies at this time. Thus physical retrieval of personnel and compromising material is of the utmost importance.”

The Androids among their number nodded, faces set with the grim necessity of their current task. Short of authorizing and using self-destruct protocols amongst the crew of the Dubin there were no other options available.

“And those aren’t always as reliable as they think either,” thought A2 to herself. She had after all survived more than a few at close range thanks to quick thinking and good fortune. Only to find the metallic skeletons of her would-be assassins half-molten and still glowing from the detonation of their black boxes.

The quirks of power generation and complex computation emulation that made them so useful as components of the Next Generation Weapons Deployment Operation and later YoRHa itself in its final form had the unfortunate side-effect of not always producing the same result under extreme duress. Her own current survival and those of other members of YoRHa from the end of the 14th war stood as a most notable example of this fact.

Though the still confusingly uncomfortable thoughts of her resurrection by near literal dues ex machina came to a sudden halt by the next words that Zelos spoke.

“A2, I’d like you to be in charge of squad Delta.”

The confused expression that showed on her face must have said what her silent voice could not, as Zelos quickly continued.

“Your records state considerable experience at covert operations and infantry level combat tactics against numerically advantageous foes. You’ve also shown considerably adeptness at picking up the combat doctrine used by Asari and Salarian special forces, and frankly, the only person on this ship with a comparable amount of experience is myself.”

The objection that most of that ‘considerable experience’ had come from direct conflict with her own faction in the seemingly endless Machine Wars died on her lips.

For Zelos that near pointless conflict was even more irrelevant then it now felt for A2. All that truly mattered was what it said about A2.

“Though maybe you might have oversold my skills White,” came the annoyed internal voice as she considered why Zelos knew so much about her military records. Even if A2 had to admit to herself, no matter how darkly twisted the source of might be, there was a certain pride to be taken from her long-term survival and the entirely disproportionate amount of resources YoRHa had spent seeking her destruction without achieving anything of note.

Zelos was right.

She did have experience to spare when it came to covert operations in hostile territory.

***

The sky burned. The tumultuous grey and brown expanse streaked with lines of orange and red. New angry wounds of the recent battle cut across the cloud shrouded heavens. The last remains of ships torn asunder in the void above and now falling into the atmosphere below. Some penetrated the thick clouds, raining down and driving deep. Cratering the harsh and barren soil of Tuchanka.

Each heavy impact a strike of thunder. Such a rain of death had not occurred since the great exchange of nuclear armament millennia ago. Even the surviving wildlife, as harsh as the homeworld from which the originated, ran from the rising clouds of fire and dust.

Packs of varren panicking across the radioactive salt flats, thresher maws digging deeper, tunneling away from the hammer falls of crashing ships.

All while the armored boots of the Krogan themselves marched through the storms of dust and metal shards brought about by the impacts.

Younger, bolder Krogan rushing towards a potentially conflict. Other weaker clans seeking the glorious battle that had been denied to them as they waited upon the surface.

Though this did not count every Krogan that now fought upon the surface. Some had been there for more… political reasons. Keeping their clans focused on the war effort and minimizing potential infighting as they readied for another surge against the Turian fleets or trying to break past blockades and make the Citadel bleed for the arrogance of thinking they could keep their colonies safe from the Krogan with these new ‘allies’ they had found.

“Likely to take our place. The Krogan Killers. The new attack dogs of the Citadel. Though the Asari had better hope these ones don’t turn on them too.” Teeth bared as he turned to face the burning windstorms brought forth by the impacts. The harsh pain spiking through the still raw injury Okeer had given him. “If the Turians and this other new species… the ones the Extranet reports call ‘Humans,’ come to hunger for more than being the Citadels pets, who will they call to put them down?”

Jarrod clenched his fist and pointed over a nearby hill, calling for another of his soldiers to move forward to look for signs of survivors or the rescue ship that they’d detected coming down.

It would do no good to humor such defeatist thoughts. The war was far from over, and despite the surprising advantages that the combined fleets had shown the Krogan still had numbers and the means to keep the pressure on their enemies for decades to come. The attacks of the Council’s special forces may have crippled their war machine and kept the Krogan from taking the Citadel and their rightful place as the other Warlords had intended, but they had far from broken the Krogan war machine.

“No matter how many worlds we must burn, how many mountains of corpses we must make, the Krogan will take their place upon the summit of this galaxy. And each and every other species will come to acknowledge our strength and dominance once and for all!”

“Warlord Jarrod! I see an enemy force.”

“Where are they?” Jarrod asked, shouting against the rising winds that engulfed them. Radio chatter kept to an absolute minimum, as they intended to give no sign of their hunt until they had the enemy cornered.

“About half a kilometer south. They have a personal carrier and half a dozen troops alongside it. Mostly Asari with a few Salarians.”

“Any of those Humans with their combat cybernetics?”

“I don’t-wait! Yes, I think I see one.”

“Only one?” Jarrod couldn’t keep the smile from forming. They had more than enough weapons to deal with one of the freakish cyborgs that the Citadel had found in some unexplored region of the galaxy. “Good then… take fire positions over their and hunker down so they can’t spot you on thermals. Wait until the signal so we can take them down quickly before they know what’s going on.”

***

They trudged across the blasted grey soil, only occasionally broken by hardy weeds and thorny undergrowth that had endured the devastation that had scarred the surface and burned the skies millennia ago. Sensors readily displaying the caustic air’s unhealthy nature and the lingering radioactivity which lead to the requirement of full environmental suits for them.

For most of them anyway.

A2 kept up a tireless pace just to the right of the armored personal carrier. A Salarian take on the concept, the vehicle came with abundance of integrated electronic warfare systems not a one of which served much purpose outside of a support network. Though she supposed if she was one for such distractions she could have spent downtime on the Karhal seeing how quickly she could infiltrate and compromise those very systems.

She’d been told on good authority that fourteen seconds was about the average length of time to tale control of critical systems, and thus have the ability to turn a fresh off the assembly line SHA-YU into a five ton wreck once you disabled the emergency shut offs on the engine and forced the self-repair systems to weld several important parts together that didn’t find that arrangement particularly agreeable.

Not that the Scanner type that had brought this interesting factoid up had done so of course.

Thoughts of the many ways Androids were finding to assist in the current war efforts, and would likely continue to do so once turned to more peaceful applications, fell away as she looked across the next stretch of passable terrain before them.

*Proposal: Caution is advised. There are numerous positions within passive/active scanning ranges where Krogan could be hidden from sensors. Possibility of an ambush is high.*

“Yeah, I can see that. We can’t go around though,” A2 said as she gestured to soldiers near her to follow along the far left side of the canyon opening into which they entered. “I’d have a hard enough time getting up those cliffs on my own.”

*Affirmative. I was merely stating possible threats for your consideration. Regardless of the danger this is the only option that remains.*

“That may be true, but we shouldn’t be idiots about it.” They should send out a scout team ahead to make check for Krogan hiding in the rocks and crevices on the far side. Which she would normally do first but…

“We don’t have time to waste. Genesa, you can project biotics at more than twenty meters correct?” At the nod from the Asari, A2 continued, “Good, then you’ll be with me incase we need to deactivate mines or explosives with purely mechanical triggers. Vercul.”

“Ah, yes Ma’am? I mean-“

“You can worry about proper terminology later,” A2 said. “I need to know if you can provide scanning support and communications with the rest of our squad as we move forward. I’m not qualified for adaptive hacking or electronic warfare so you’ll have to keep the Krogan from surprising us on that front while working with Pod 153’s scans. Can you do that?”

“Ah… yes,” Vercul said. Before repeating his words, with less hesitation in his voice. “Yes, I’ve spent the better part of the last six months learning how to integrate your communication and intel systems into our own while maintaining the robust security algorithms of your native OS structures.”

“Good. Let’s move out than. We don’t have any more time to waste.”

The three of them moved ahead of the vehicle, trying to remain in cover and hidden from the potential ambush points farther ahead. All while the rest of the squad within the SHA-YU slowly followed behind. The Salarian crew keeping to the path highlighted as safe by their own forward inspection as close range sonic scans and ultra high frequency analysis showed that there were no surprises left for them by the Krogan that might fool the onboard sensors.

It was slowing them down, but not by too much. Still as the minutes stretched on A2 started to wonder is she had made a mistake. Perhaps the Krogan weren’t here? In which case all she was doing was wasting time while the survivors from the Dubin continued their own dangerous trek across the surface of Tuchanka.

“What was Zelos even thinking? I’ve only had one command position before and it-“

The loud report of rifle silenced her internal questions, followed by Genesa falling back, relatively uninjured but almost knocked prone from the impact of a Krogan’s weapon upon her kinetic barriers. As A2 pulled her back behind one of the large boulders that dotted their surroundings Vercul took point and tried to cover their retreat.

A bit of quick thinking that turned disastrous for the Salarian as blue glow surrounded him and he floated upwards, becoming an ungrounded floating target for the Krogan’s guns as he desperately tried to right himself and fire back in return.

“Pod! Barrier program now!”

A2 leapt upwards, not waiting for the affirmation from Pod 153 as she grabbed hold of Vercul and pulled him down. Only for another blue haze to obscure her own vision.

“Shit.” The sense of unnatural weightlessness throw off a dozen internal sensors, but despite that she managed to right herself partially in midair. One hand held tightly to the Pod’s arms while the other kept Vercul from drifting off or being pulled outside of her barrier program’s shield. “Still, this will probably hold long enough for their biotics to fail.”

*ALERT! Passive sensors detect a significant energy source and corresponding heat signature one hundred and eighty meters from our current position.*

Or maybe they weren’t going to wait that long.

“Here! Catch and get down,” A2 said, twisting in midair and pitching Vercul down towards where Genesa was firing at the Krogan. Just in time as Pod 042 displayed the a warning of the anomalous heat signature peaking, followed by a spike of EM radiation from the same location.

A2 watched the streak of light, atmosphere set aflame by the passing projectile, impact upon and shatter through her barrier program before carving a long glowing line into the cliff wall behind them.

*Warning: The personal barrier programs that this system can provide are not rated for energetic events at this level.*

“Really now? You don’t say,” A2 replied. Turning away from the devastation of the Krogan’s heavy weapon and back towards the lighter armaments that were now testing the strength of her kinetic barrier and soon enough her own armor and structural integrity. “Time to get down from here.”

Pulling her sword into her hand she adjusted the NFCS until her ‘grip’ felt too tight. And then threw the sword behind her, embedding it into one of the larger rocks. The glowing halo brightened, the symbols becoming quite distinct as she continued to ramp up the attraction between herself and the weapon.

Until her own mass combined with the rock exceeded what the Krogan’s biotics could hope to lift even together and she rapidly descended. Pulling the sword free in one swift movement that had her back behind cover next to Vercul and Genesa.

The Salarian looking no worse from wear, if unsettled by his recent brush with death.

“I wish to apologize for putting you into-“

“I don’t care about that right now,” A2 said, quickly cutting him off. “What was that weapon the Krogan’s just shot us with?”

“A mobile artillery emplacement. Removed from its standard placement and used as a mid-range to long-range heavy infantry weapon by heavily armored Krogan warriors. Though the sensor data shows that it has been modified to be far more wasteful.”

“Meaning?”

“It burns through cooling systems and necessary mechanical components with every shot as the strain at functioning at such a level is beyond what current Krogan metallurgy can provide. Though as was demonstrated the firepower provided by this modification allows over penetration of heavy armor and apparently even the personal shields provided by your support pod systems.”

“And it would kill the SHA-YU in one shot too?” At Vercul’s nod A2 turned back to look in the direction from which the Krogan’s weapon fire had originated. “Well, I’ll just have to deal with that.”

“By yourself?”

“Not entirely.” A2 tapped on the side of Pod 153, and a holographic display was brought up a moment later as it floated down before her. “Attention to the crew of the SHA-YU. You’re going to be receiving relayed targeting parameters from myself byway of Vercul. Don’t worry about hitting me though… as long as you only shoot where I tell you that won’t be a problem. Genesa, you’ll provide direct cover fire from here and protect Vercul so he can focus on making sure the firing parameters I provide get through correct.”

“But… there has to be over a dozen of them? And there’s too great a distance for even one of you to cover safely.”

“Don’t worry about that Genesa. I can handle this. Pod 153, switch over to a decoy program.”

*Affirmative. Query: Do you intend to use that system?*

“No better time for it.”

A2 reached over, placing one hand on the side of nearby rock. Feeling the thrumming pulse of her black box begin to intensify as the energy output grew and grew. The red warning signs that flashed across her vision mentally dismissed as she blinked.

And then she was off. An explosion of dust and rocks behind each step, rocketing forward in a reddish haze of cast off heat. Joined moments later by a flickering doppelganger that assumed the illusion of material existence. A lie of matter that would fool a host of sensors extending far beyond the Krogan’s own naked eyes. And took shot upon shot in the few seconds it took for A2 to close the gap to the nearest group of Krogan.

Her eyes tracked over each one, the info captured and sent ahead to the rest of the squad. While at the same time her blade was pulled into her right hand. And swept across and through the bodies that had stood before her.

Those that did not fall in death fell back, stunned by the speed of her approach and the ferocity of her attack. But the fire from the SHA-YU was guided by A2’s eyes and took each one as the broke from cover or turned to face her.

Only for her retreating back to be the last thing they saw as she sprinted towards the remaining Krogan. A blur of motion that echoed through the canyon with the sound like a cannon shot as brief flashes of velocity took her to the edge of the sound barrier.

Even without the decoy still trailing behind her, now marred by the yellow of Krogan blood as her true body was, it would have taken a miracle to land a single shot upon her. As it was, covered by the approaching fire from the rest of her squad and the integrated aiming systems the ambush had quickly become a slaughter for any Krogan that continued to stand and fight.

Until she reached the gun from before, still glowing in places from its discharge and not yet repaired for a second shot. The Krogan working upon it running from her thunderous and blood stained approach as their commander turned to place the weapon before him and her, trying to buy himself a few more moments to ready and aim his own weapon at her.

Only for her blade to fall. Cutting the twenty centimeter barrel, and the skull plate of the Krogan who stood behind it in half.

Urdnot Jarrod fell back, the sky above seeming to split apart.

Chapter Text

Part 19

The pulse of the world quickened, rising with a thundering panic. The ground shook in tune with this dreadful beat. Faster and faster, all of creation became consumed with a discordant melody, harkening the doom long forestalled but not escaped.

Wind tore across the barren expanse, dead soil burned brown and dunes of grey ash piled like mountains. A keening wail that came from all directions, the only sound that could be heard across the immensity and pierced to the bone.

The old cities lay empty, as all the world wiped clean of life. No armies rose to meet the end, none ran from the coming oblivion. The ruins sat as silent witnesses to this, the ultimate end.

There would be no record for what came next.

As all the world screamed out and died.

And yet it had only just begun.

***

Her breath came hot. Painful and strained in way that really shouldn’t have.

That she had to breath, tasting the acrid air around her, remained notable all on its own. Despite the scorching heat around her, each breath still cooled her a little bit more.

But internal cooling systems would have had enough trouble dealing with the heat buildup under optimal conditions. And nothing about Tuchanka could be considered optimal. Too hot, too acidic, the air laced with abrasive particles. Even the oxygen proportion felt too low for internal maintenance systems to process without difficulty.

Slowly the blinking warning signs faded from her vision, along with the majority of aching pain inside. A dull numbness as her internal reactor came within safer limits and the barely perceptible vibration of her black box died away. The haze of distorted light passing near her skin also vanishing her temperature went down.

There were reasons she didn’t use that ability more often after all.

“That might not have been the best way to handle this,” A2 thought. Wiping her blade clean of scorched Krogan blood, the flakes of orange-yellow falling from the gleaming surface. Her hands would be another matter, the spray of internal fluid partially burned into her skin from the increased heat she’d exuded. She’d have to worry about them later when something caustic enough was at hand to clean them. But for now it was time to take stock of the damages.

No casualties on her side, though there had been some scares before she took direct action. As for the Krogan…

“Pod, how many did you count?”

*In total thirty-two Krogan were killed in the preceding conflict. A total allocation is difficult to provide based on the resilience of Krogan physiology but a conservative estimate would place A2 as responsible for the deaths of sixty percent of that number.*

“Is that all?” A2 steady herself against the cliffside, the coarse grey brown soil sticking to her hands. She rubbed her hands together, finding that the ash of Tuchanka was hard to remove with the base that had already been applied. “I figured it would be higher.”

*Negative. As stated Krogan physiology is highly resistant to immediate death from most form of physical injury. A significant number may have only been critically injured by your attacks and later killed by support fire. Without more sensitive scanning equipment keyed to organic life I cannot provide accurate data.*

“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t asking a serious question.” Turning from the bodies A2 leapt down from the carnage that surrounded the ruined Krogan heavy weapon placement. Expression grim as she thought, “Though there’s not much humor to be found from this. The Krogan are going to have enough to worry about without me putting more of their young in the dirt.”

Their vehicle rounded about some of the piles of rock which the Krogan had been hiding among. Vercul making a quick pace in the front, omnitool out and scanning for any explosive surprises the Krogan might have left in case their attempt to snipe at them from range had failed. Luckily there hadn’t been any yet, letting them try and make up some of the time they had already lost dealing with this force.

That particular Salarian had a complicated expression on his face. Not one of shock and disgust, this being far from his first close combat role, but wavering trepidation that A2 had only started to be able to pick up from his species in the last few weeks.

“Something wrong Vercul?”

“I-no… not really. I mean-well...,” he said. His voice laden with an unspoken question, hesitant and stuttering where most Salarians spoke quick and clear. His eyes darting from the stains upon A2’s armor. The flakes of burgundy orange that had so recently been the lifeblood of over two dozen Krogan warriors. Cut down in by a whirlwind of steel and force, in a single furious moment of violence.

“Never seen a YoRHa vet in action before?” A2 paused, thinking back to the discussions they’d had about how to handle sensitive topics. Especially ones that could color future interactions between Androids and the various alien species they might encounter.

The potentially frightening difference in physical capabilities that a combat android could demonstrate being of particular interest in them.

“With a lot of advice from the older blue ones on how to put some of those concerns to rest.” A few knowledgeable and particularly old Asari matriarchs had given Alliance analyst's personal data and anecdotes about xeno-psychology and sociology. Even with the necessary checks and security issues involved in the short-term cover up they had found a fair number to consult on discussing ‘sensitive’ issues. The Asari’s relatively long lifespans, naturally high proportion of biotics, and unique reproductive method having given them great deal of experience in bridging significant differences between different species. Invaluable given how the only aliens that Earth had been visited by up to this point had been too divergent from conventional sapience to provide any useful experience on the matter. “Save for the Machine Lifeforms. But they spent so much time copying human behavior that by the end you could barely tell what they had originated from.”

“No, it’s not that. I have been quite thoroughly briefed on the expected combat capabilities of your specific model.” Vercul paused for a moment, dismissing his display as he waved the vehicle by and they began moving away from the enclosed canyon and up a tall bluff of sun scorched rock and loose dry soil. “Though some of your performance didn’t match what I had expected from direct combat model. You would be categorized as Tier III in terms of level of combat modifications? I ask as your name contains a designation letter but not one which was in the briefing materials”

A2 didn’t speak up immediately, which Pod 152 took as reason to give its own input.

*YoRHa Type A Number 2 was constructed before the modern post-war reformation of YoRHa. While the general classification system was created to include those activated during the war, A2 remains a prototype model that does not fall within the specifications of this system nor is her designation in use at this time. While she does possess the full two dedicated NFCS for combat applications her internal reactor configuration and tertiary upgrades were never brought into line with modern regulations.*

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Vercul quickly said, right hand nervously touching his omnitool. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I was just curious about your unusual abilities.”

“It’s not a big deal. Really,” A2 said, reaching over and lightly tapping Pod 042 on their casing. “You have to screw up pretty bad for YoRHa to confiscate your personal hardware… least nowadays. And I never felt like going in for a more streamlined system upgrade since I was used to getting the most out of what I had.”

“That and I didn’t want someone routing around in my insides putting all that mass produced scrap in me.” She frowned as she considered the last argument (of sorts) she’d had with 2B about sticking to the prototype specs. Years doing self-repair and maintenance with minimal supplies had taught A2 how to get the most performance from her systems. Especially when those supplies came from salvaging the machines she killed or dead Androids she found.

“Well, ‘found’ wasn’t always the right term.”

Either way, A2 had a knowledge of her own internals unmatched outside of a maintenance/repair specialist.

Not that many M&Rs had ever seen her type before, what with only a few dozen ever made before they’d been discontinued for the next generation of mass produced YoRHa forces.

But all of that now lay in a distant past.

---

All about jagged spires reached up from the broken earth towards a roiling sea of grey and brown. Taloned fingers of the buried dead clawing up from the mass grave to which they had been laid, scarring the burned sky. As if to reach salvation, escape from their fate.

Only as the clouds parted and the abyss yawned wide it became clear that heavenward there lay no refuge. No safety in the sky. For between the stars something came. Shadows against the black.

Streams of glowing ichor ran among the broken rocks. Boiling in the heat of armageddon. No sun shone from above. Yet it was hotter than ever before. A furnace that would soon set flesh aflame and leave not but bones and ash.

And there he was, trapped within it.

The sole witness of it all.

Through the clouds fell titans. Immeasurable in scale. Conquering things, conquerors supreme of all that had come before or would ever come hence. But here and now they did not come for battle…

But to feast.

They were a swarm, collective enumerable carrion eaters, flying down on wings of starless sky to devour the soon to be corpse of this world. They would strip it clean, leaving not even bones among the rubble.

These eaters of worlds.

Then the looming darkness spread to engulf the heavens, the clouds spreading thin and dispersing. Not even stars now shone to break the void of endless black. Yet despite that the land, the soil around him still stood clear against. Stark grey and streaked with yellow. Like a corpse bleed out.

By the ruins in the distance he could tell it was Tuchanka still, but never had it looked so dead. It was as if the very last glimmers of life had been drawn out of it, leaving only a corpse

And the voice that was not of the wind, the earth, nor of the void beyond whispered into his hearts. That the doom that now awaited his world, his people, and all that he believed in could not be averted.

But it could be shared.

The ones that had passed judgement upon him, they too could be cast down from the heavens, buried in the grave of the forgotten and unmourned. One more layer of bone and dead names, of long rusted blades and tomb cities. Their deaths before the coming butchers not merely probable but assured.

They have taken your future, dead earth and unkind winds whispered. The victory and accolades so richly deserved for the blood and lives you have spilled.

Why not take theirs?

All it will take is a

S

a

c

r

i

f

i

c

e

Nothing much, not anymore.

All that you are.

All that remains of you and your kin.

Your blood and your pain and your lives.

For the defeated…

All those things are worthless.

Aren’t they?

---

45 minutes before Krogan reinforcements.

“I see something approaching Commander.”

A2 looked up, scanning the distance. The wind had begun to pick up, harsh clouds of the acidic salt from the vast dessert plain nearby blowing in. Mixed with countless other particulate matter, no small amount tossed up by the collision of the Krogan dreadnaught into the surface. Despite that her own annoyance at it hadn’t increased since the earlier ambush.

Which probably meant there was something wrong with her respiratory system now.

“Just one more thing to I’ll need to take a look at once this is finished.” A2 had known that berserk mode would put an increased strain on nearly every system. What she hadn’t properly judged was just how much worse that would be outside of her ‘recommended operating environments.’ “At least nothing went wrong with my fuel filter or reactor. Just don’t try anything flashy like that again.”

Luckily it didn’t look like she’d have to. A group of bedraggled androids were rushing over, a few functioning pods among their number while some helped a few of the more injured reach the rescue party. Caked in ash and with more than a few limping forward with non-functioning limbs A2 could only hope they didn’t run into any more severe Krogan resistance on the way back.

They certainly wouldn’t be able to handle it as well as the first time.

“Is this everyone from the Dubin?”

“Yes, Ma’am. We also pulled the server files before we left,” the technician said, holding a rectangular case containing the high-density storage. “But I-what with all the damages during the crash I’m not sure full data integrity was maintained.”

“You did the best you could-“

“That’s not all,” she said, shielding her eyes as the dust storm began to pick up. “We had to leave three behind. First our captain and then later another two. They… they broke off to lead a group of Krogan away from us. I don’t know where they went with all this damned interference everywhere.”

“I see,” A2 said. Stepping aside as the most injured were lifted up and placed onto the SHA-YU. The tight confines of the Salarian designed vehicle managing to fit only a small number.

Hopefully that would be enough.

“They’ll just have meet to up with the other recovery team. The distress beacons from the Turian escape pods are strong enough to lock on even in all of this.” A2 swept her eyes over the survivors now that they were ready to head back. In truth, even this small number had been extremely lucky. There were far more than she had expected. “We don’t have time to go out there looking for them now. Everyone: hold to a tight formation and keep pace. If we don’t get back before the Krogan reinforcements we might just get shot down again trying to get off this rock.”

---

He’d barely made it to an escape pod.

Not intentionally. As the Rathor collided with his own ship the sudden loss of artificially gravity had slung him against a nearby bulkhead even as he ordered his crew to abandon ship once their trajectory into Tuchanka had become unavoidable. He’d lost consciousness for less than a minute, but when he awoke it was to stare out at his own ship as it broke apart on re-entry. Entering the atmosphere at a poor angle and burning up into a thousand streaks of light.

Unfortunately, he was among those streaks. His escape pod launching at an ill-timed moment and hurtling towards Tuchanka itself.

They were built tough. And the inertial compensators tried valiantly to keep him from being too severely injured by what happened.

But they could only do so much as his pod skipped across the blasted dunes of one of Tuchanka’s radioactive desserts. He was battered and bleeding when he at last climbed out of it.

Though Arguis suspected that the fact he could only see out of one eye probably had more to do with whatever had happened to him on board the Judicator before he blacked out.

“Might have a concussion too. Either that or internal bleeding?” It hardly mattered. He couldn’t take more than few steps before his ears began to ring and his legs gave out. Collapsing onto the hot sands, the foul and acrid atmosphere burning his lungs. He supposed he was lucky he could even breath still. Beyond the foul mix of the Krogan’s burned world each breath left him shuddering. “Punctured lung too likely.”

In the end he rolled over onto his back, gun held tightly and pointed over the crest of a nearby dune. If he was to die here he would at least make it a challenge for whichever Krogan swept the debris for survivors.

His first and only shot went wide by a dozen centimeters. He let his pistol fall to the side a moment later. Glad he’d missed as the android that had crested the low dune slid down to meet him. Sandy blown hair tied in short bun with her eyes partially hidden by holographic display.

Not a good sign as she had neither a helmet or armor equipped with a kinetic barrier. She couldn’t have been a rescue party, just another lost survivor from the attack.

“Are you okay?” She turned to her companion, who had rifle in her hands instead of the blade that floated behind the back of the first. “Keep watch in case any of them are still chasing us. I’ve got a lot of organic-safe staunching gel left so I should be able to stabilize him for medical evac.”

“Sarah, what makes you think there’s going to be any sort of extraction? We ran three kilometers away from the rescue ship.”

“If they haven’t picked this one up yet then there’s still a chance that they’ll come around to the escape pod signal looking for him. We just need to make sure they find us when they do.” The android Sarah turned back to Arguis. An oddly shaped injector in one hand now. “Hold still while I administer this. I apologize if it… stings a little. I haven’t had much experience treating, well, anyone like you before. Supposedly they’ve started lacing it with a localized sedative but I don’t know if we had that kind on board the Dubin.”

“I’m sure I’ve had worse.”

He had, though through the blinding pain it was a bit hard to recollect when exactly. As his vision faded back from black to a red speckled haze that likely would have had him vomiting if he could have managed the strength he managed to pinpoint ‘worse.’ Namely that time he’d been too close to an improvised explosive set by Turian rebels and spent an hour shooting back at their ambush spot before they rushed him to back to their base camp to fish the shrapnel from his gut.

This was a close second as Sarah injected the gel, flipped the applicator around to bring a sonic emitter onto his broken flesh and began tuning it to the appropriate frequency. Eventually the pain gave way to something number and by the looks of it most of the more alarming bleeding had stopped.

Not that he had much time to adjust to it. The android with the rifle slid down and grabbed Sarah by her shoulder. “We’ve got to move. I don’t know if they’re the same ones from before but there’s a group of Krogan coming behind us. They must have tracked onto the same signal we did.”

She nodded, turning back to Arguis and lifting him up as gently as she could before beginning a brisk walk away from the approaching Krogan. Her companion keeping watch behind them, knowing that it would only be a moment before they were attacked if rescue didn’t come soon.

It didn’t.

He heard a muffled curse and the discharge of the rifle. A scatter of shots impacted into his rescuers as they dropped behind a barrier of soil and dirt. Sarah working with her omni-tool and trying to bring up anything but static. Still they might be able to hold out till help came as Krogan had become more hesitant about charging defenses when androids were present since the beginning of the war.

And then the ground shook as great cloud of dust erupted nearby.

“Damnit! They have an RPG.”

“How many of them are their Violet?”

“Fifteen. Maybe more behind those. Too many for a support medic and a technician with a gun to do anything about. If we had a support pod I’d say we risk it but without that…”

“We might not have to,” she said, looking up from the holographic display on her wrist. “There’s a shuttle coming in soon. They were on their last pass through this area. All we have to do is get over that hill so that the Krogans don’t shoot them down.”

“We’ll never make it that far!” Another explosion punctuated that statement. “Especially not dragging him with us.”

Arguis took a breath, feeling the pain as he struggled to speak. He’d almost gathered the strength to tell them to leave him behind only to find the startlingly blue eyes of Sarah staring into his. “I’m not sure if you can run… but Violet should be able to carry you most of the way on her own. I’m going to cover us.”

“With what?!”

“Just give me moment to run the program… this is a lot harder to do without a pod system.”

Arguis managed to speak through the pain. Choking out, “You don’t need to do that. If you both run I can-“

“Just be quiet. You’re in no condition to do anything,” Sarah said holding the now oddly glow fluctuation between cubes of differing shapes between her hands. “Besides if this holds out long enough we’ll all get out of here.”

Any more complaints were silenced as they exploded into action. Sarah leaping up as the light flooded outward around her and then concentrating into an odd spherical covering projected outward. Transparent and formed of concentric circles that slowly rotated about the central point from her hand, growing more indistinct and blurry as they moved outward. The strange symbols that formed constructs formed by this ‘non-biotic’ energy manipulation that androids called magic.

Though Arguis had read enough to know that this name did not come from a source of supernatural ignorance. Even if this demonstration first showed him what these powers looked like when used in more dramatic effect than merely holding their weapons. Trained biotics had that had been allowed to study it stated that there was a strange sense of dissociation that occurred in areas where this ‘multi-origin’ energy was projected.

The experts thought that it might be caused by the transition of energy across dimensional barriers effecting the nature of gravity without altering its strength. Not that much profit would be in such thoughts at the moment, mere distractions that flashed through his mind along with a shock of pain as he was lifted up and carried away from the barrier. Turning his head as to look at the impacts of rockets and hypersonic shards scattering from the glowing hemisphere.

“A Cabal member might be able to pulls a barrier of that size.” Arguis had put them to good use capturing a pirate group mostly alive during his first ship command. “Though it would never hold this long against such an onslaught.”

It wouldn’t last long enough, they’d almost made it to the crest of the hill when the blurring at the edges bled inward. Soon it would fall. And nothing would stand between them and a hail of fire and death from the Krogans. Their feet threw up clouds of grey dust with each step, bringing them closer and closer to safety. They had almost reached the top.

Then the shield fell apart, scintillating particles fast fading as they past out of reality into the transitory existence from which they had been summoned.

In the moments that passed after the barrier failed he saw her hesitation. The way her left leg had posed to step back, to grab at her companion and pull them to the side. The fear of death was an automatic response after all. But instead she stayed there. Holding it as long as she could. Trying to force the barrier back into existence.

Her lips moved. Her couldn’t hear what she said, but he could see the motion as she turned towards them. He wondered what she said as a rocket impacted into the partially formed barrier a few centimeters from her outstretched hands.

The detonation was blinding, and sending them over the hill they rolled end over end across the barren surface. When they came to a stop three bodies lay there. Two living and one dying. Her right arm was gone, melted metal and gore, the red of her blood trickling out of severed internal cables. Portions of her uniform had been blown off, and with it most of her face. The shiny metallic bones underneath the synthetic flesh jerking in death. One eye still partially intact gazed up at the foreign sky.

And then there was nothing. The stillness of death.

His other rescuer was yelling at him, but he barely heard her words. Instead she carried him over the dunes, further and further from Krogan force assaulting them. Their escape now so close.

Yet so far away.

She shuddered, missing a step. The slug over penetrating her body and grazing his own armor. He felt the pain, the crack of his ribs. Her solid frame had slowed it down enough that it had only added another injury to his multitude instead of killing him. Still they pushed on.

His feet felt like lead as he was forced to hobble along with her now. She pushed him over towards the waiting Salarian and Asari forces, half falling as she did so. They grabbed and dragged her behind them. Another android looked her over as her body twitched. She shook her head. Whatever the slug had hit must have been too important for field repairs.

Arguis Ostium watched both his rescuers die.

While far in the distance a flash of light lit up the horizon from where they had been running.

The wreck of the Dubin scorched clean in the inferno.

***

Nothing, they had nothing.

Just another crater blasted into the surface where the ship had been.

He’d spent nearly two hundred Krogan lives trying to take it. And in the end he’d obtained nothing to show for it. No new data and certainly nothing concrete to examine.

“No more than what I had already,” Okeer thought, looking down at the metallic skull in his hand. Melted in places, the internals rendered to ash and twisted plastic. Any softer, more sensitive material annihilated in the combustion that had been triggered. Some kind of variable yield fusion explosive that these ‘humans’ had installed. But that was the problem. “Whoever they are, they are not organic lifeforms.”

He was not especially gifted in the study of cybernetic augmentation. Krogans did not use it much leaving him little opportunity or reason to practice in the field. And the Salarians lacked the robust physiology that would have allowed for more interesting alterations to their forms. Thus there was rather little to read in their academic journals.

But he did know the limits, current and projected. And this was beyond them. They’d yet to find a single solitary piece of genetic information from any of these new combatants. Okeer had a vial of their ‘blood’, hard earned from the attackers that had all but scuttled the Rathor.

A type of machine oil laced with heavy metals and some interesting forms of nano-scale constructs. But each and every trace element and molecule showed a deliberate design. No sign of the inefficiencies of evolution's starts and stops.

Putting an end to a brief hypothesis he had that perhaps they were a non-carbon based life in addition to radical levels of cybridization.

“No, the answer is simple. Absurd perhaps, but simple. As we were found when the Rachni threatened them now they have found another race bred for war.”

“No… more correctly, made.”

In a way it made sense as a type of cosmic irony. A cycle of uplift and destruction. Caused over and over from the weakness of the so-called rulers of the galaxy. If the Asari had found the strength in their own people to put down the Rachni the Krogan would not now be fighting these newcomers to galactic society.

“Though, will it continue again? Such a cycle cannot be assumed to continue indefinitely.” The Turians alone could match the fleets the Asari and Salarians were willing to put into service. And now a machine race purpose built for war? Either would have presented a threat to Asari dominance in the long run. And decrease the importance of the Salarians as a side effect of their own rise in galactic prominence.

Separately they might gnaw away at the strength of the Republics from two sides till they could no longer contest them with arms even if they had the will to do so. And if they were to ally together?

However the Krogan Rebellions went, Okeer doubted that Asari maidens now fighting would die as old matriarchs still feeling that their civilization held such a safe position as the dominant force in the galaxy.

“Still interstellar socio-economics is only a hobby I took up to better gauge prices on materials and weapons.” Looking up at the still flame streaked sky, greyer and darker than it had been for years.

The specks of a fine white powder falling and fast evaporating when they reached the surface.

He awoke to indescribable pain.

His entire left felt like it was on fire. And he could see nothing either. He tried to lift his arm up to feel at the wound that must have blinded him on that side, but the limb lay dead and unresponsive. He could feel it still, veins alit with pain that told him was still attached, but it would not move.

Jarrod lay there among the dead, his one remaining eye blinking as flakes of white fell from the heavens.

He could scarce remember what had happened since that she-devil’s blade had fallen upon him. The twisted vision fading like mirage across the salt flats…

But somehow he knew it meant something, that this defeat was more than just a personal loss. That all Krogans had been laid low as well, even if they didn’t know it yet.

His right hand clenched tight. Even if they were all damned to die now they would not do so alone.

Data Recovery Records for Pod 202:

--- Memory Data from Dubin Main Server

YoRHa Number 1 Type Defense-2EA7 === Recovered

NL-N0 39856-GS-2ECA (Salvia) === Not Recovered

E-P0 396E6-GS -2EE0 (Winter) === Recovered

MAR-0 F-TS-2FAD (Ruby) === Recovered

MAR-0 9-GS-2FB3 (Franklin) === Not Recovered

YoRHa Number 32 Type Operations-2EA7 === Recovered

JA-0 34BCF8-TS 2EA7 (Cherry) === Not Recovered

JA-0 34C52C-RS 2FA1 (Violet) === Recovered

6A-6X 2782C5-GS 2DB8 (Million) === Not Recovered

6A-6X 2774B5-GS 2D8B (Runner) === Recovered

EN-EA 1AF-TS 2CEE (Oria) === Recovered

E-P0 4572E3-GS-2A6C (Sarah) === Not Recovered

Chapter Text

Part 20

The Steller Wind Cearvo T’ebrall

Greetings loyal listeners! Welcome back to another episode of the Steller Wind, the most trusted source for the real news and not just the so-called ‘official’ reports.

I’m sure we’re all still reeling from what came out recently about the humans. But even if I don’t like to brag about my laser target intuition I think I’d be doing you all a great disservice by not bringing this fact up.

Almost fifteen years ago now, when the initial reports of Earth and its species came out I mentioned that there as something suspicious about the attention that the Citadel Council was paying to them. Especially with the Krogan’s still threatening Asari worlds on the border of our space.

Why would we be giving preferential treatment to them? With such large and generous loans on strategic materials to a species just discovered and with only a small population and under-equipped military?

A lot of you responded at the time by quoting Councilor Vokatia’s statements. And I still agree that it was some Goddess blessed nonsense she feed us. Of course no one is going to say we should go against the Siari tenets and deny charity to another species in want.

But let’s be serious here. There’s no way an offer of Eezo at fifteen percent below trade price per kilo and a no interest loan for five hundred years up to twelve billion credits of war materials just came out of a sense of universal spiritual communion.

They knew something we didn’t.

And they still do most likely if some of the reports I’ve gotten are true.

Or am I the only one still wondering how it is that a non-organic lifeform can apparently use biotics?

---: Extranet Recording of ‘The Steller Wind.’ Originally Broadcast on April 15^th, 12155 in the Asari Colony Lejune

***

Heimdall Station, Earth Orbit, May 8^th, 12155.

A shudder ran through the entire shuttle as it landed. Brief though it might have been it jarred White from her reading. The translucent plastic clipboard floating into the air for moment before artificial gravity asserted itself and it fell into her outstretched hand.

“Despite it all we still insist on doing some things so traditionally.”

Though given how it was a missive from the Parisian Museum International wanting her to ‘highly recommend our distinguished alien visitors to tour the recovered artifacts on display’ she shouldn’t have been surprised. If any android organization was going to send her an actual letter by courier service, it would be archivists. Thankfully she had assistants to delegate such matters to most of the time.

Though compared to her last operation she relished the opportunity for such mundanities to take up her time instead. No lives hung in the balance over this decision, only the anxiety of some historians eager to reveal more correct information now that they had relaxed their control over outgoing information to the greater galaxy. That and sorting through the growing list of civilian academics and xeno-cultural specialists that had been begging for an opportunity to see Earth outside of the pre-selected locations that had been open thus far.

Not her problem, though she wondered how much more work that had created for local Public Security forces.

A nearly imperceptible buzzing accompanied a short high-frequency beep. White lifted her right hand up and activated a comms device attached to her ear. The orange tinted holographic screen forming a few centimeters from her eyes as she disembarked from the shuttle.

“Admiral, it’s good to see you again,” Willow said. The auburn-haired android that served as White’s direct subordinate and assistant looked away briefly, a flash of embarrassment present on her face. “I mean not really since this is just the comms channel but… you know.”

“It’s not a problem Willow. I understand that things have been quite stressful here as well.”

“That’s not it. I mean not all of it. You have a guest waiting in your office.”

White paused at the door from the hanger, struggling to remember if she had forgotten something important. “Is it that Salarian who kept asking for a Demonic Element sample?”

“No, he got re-assigned after you complained about that.” Willow looked away, likely to the screen beside her on her desk, before speaking. “No, you have someone from Public Security waiting for you. They’re already in your office here on Heimdall.”

“What?” White’s surprise came out harsher than she might have wanted. Now her pace hastened, glaring as the doors on the elevator closed and the (annoyingly slow) movement upwards took her to the main section of the statin. “Why did you let them in there?”

“I’m sorry! It’s just… well it was a little intimidating to meet her in person, you know?”

The doors opened, though White didn’t step forward. Frozen as the identity of her guest became clear. “I’d have thought she would be too busy with the increased alien visitors to come up here.”

Willow spoke then, interrupting White’s thoughts. “Uh… Ma’am? Do you want me to tell her to leave?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll be up shortly.”

“Acknowledged.”

The display vanished, leaving White alone as she left the elevator and headed towards her personal office. Her pace slowing as she began to pass more androids in the hallway. First as those she recognized greeted her and stepped aside. And then coming to a stop when she realized how large the crowds were further ahead in the atrium.

Though it wasn’t quite as open as it could have been. They hadn’t been able to be so liberal with their use of space, so the wider open area contained both the small garden and larger observation point that allowed one to gaze out at the Earth below them. Frankly she thought the garden a tad disconcerting in the chosen aesthetic. Faux marble columns extended several meters up between planters filled with the pale flowers of Lunar Tears.

Despite the difficulty in caring for those temperamental blossoms, they were not the point of attraction in the garden. Instead a wireless network extended out from a single terminal located at the center of the garden. A specialized pod system set aside for managing it.

And the records it contained.

White truly didn’t know where the idea had come to set up a memorial. Not just for the recent dead, even if that might have been the original idea, but to chronicle the registry information and names of every android known to have died in some capacity while serving under the Army of Humanity. Not that such behaviors hadn’t become disturbingly common among the disparate resistance forces over time. Disturbing given how it went against many of command’s directives, if understandable nonetheless.

“But why the flowers?” That White didn’t have the first clue on. Flowers were common among traditions of the old world. But there had been insistence from quite a few that this would be the perfect place for such an installation once they settled on growing Lunar Tears. Turning away from the monument White looked instead to the androids around it, many scanning through the enormous archive of names and confirmed or likely termination dates on their personal tablets and reading devices. “Many androids do have strange superstitions. I recall there being something of the sort about these flowers. Perhaps that is why they were so insistent on using this location?”

Though many in the group before her had no part in that. Like flipping mental switch, White brought up their ID info from the local server. Registered before stepping foot aboard the station she saw the floating identifiers above their heads. And noted the many with recent activation dates, and how they were not all cloistered together as had been common in such groups back during the war. Instead they often were paired up with someone clearly their senior, and in some cases if pair of them.

The first wasn’t entirely novel, having a mentor for specialized training that couldn’t be imparted easily into on-activation data had always been the norm. Such relationships were often fairly close and had shown significant improvements in moral.

Until one or the other died, which had led to many local leaders trying to minimize emotional connections. For all the good those rules had ever done.

It was the latter groups that most drew White’s attention. A rarity, but one that had been growing more common as organized society had found that they needed more androids to help with current and forecasted labor than could be trained and prepared under the older methods. Especially when technical and skilled trade skills were in such demand. You could set up a basic grunt with a rifle and knowledge of how to maintain themselves and their weapon in few months. But refurbishing one of the older diesel engines? Or the proper maintenance procedures for the new Eezo core equipped shuttles?

Apprenticeships and training were required, and not just out of a sense of nostalgia for Old World education methods. Some limits of android neural structure had always placed fairly hard limits on the total information that could be safely incorporated into an individual on activation. It had been why the Next Generation Weapons Development Program that had prototyped the early YoRHa units had been forced to engage in specialization even when using nearly unlimited resources and the best technology they had available.

“And some that exceeded it,” White thought, raising her right hand up to her chest, hovering over where the black box that had been used to recover her consciousness data lay. A modified machine core, but still descended from technology that had not come from any Earthly source. “But even with that, we still had to separate new units into specialized functions. A type H and a type O simply couldn’t be programed to know all the same information. And even the frontline combat models often required considerable experience to make use of their full capabilities.”

And thus the reason so many androids were cloistered in small groups. The ‘Sponsorship Program’ had been created to hopefully produce a surplus of androids with necessary skills by simply allotting them to already those individuals that had both the time, personal resources, and specialized skills to handle the training and education of newly activated units until they were needed. Or at least that had been the idea to start with.

But there had been a serious push to allow more than one individual to be listed as a ‘sponsor’ for a new android, with convincing arguments that it would provide more well rounded education and experiences from the differing viewpoints. Before anyone realized it they had created a legal and start organized method for an android couple to ‘adopt’ a newly activated unit.

There’d been quite the uproar when this came out, with some of the more traditionalist leaning even staging a protest and arguing that such radical behavior couldn’t be allowed. Ultimately the law had been easier to implement than remove, especially with the war efforts putting such a strain on number of androids available for training in specialized fields with weapon development and zero-G construction. The Krogan had proved fortuitous in a way for those radicals wanting to emulate family units, and the Sponsorship Program had remained more or less as is, even if some regions had tried to make the attempt to register as a sponsor more onerous to dissuade those that intended to be more like parents than mentors in a specific profession.

Just another sign of changing times. Now policies that had been talked about by the radicals and separatists in Australia before the aliens attacked and shelved indefinitely since then were being implemented. And despite the odd way it made her feel, White actually found it somewhat heartening to see. It might not be precisely the future she had hoped for, but at least is was one.

Though such complicated feelings were quickly replaced by a sense of foreboding. Her office had come into sight and Willow stood not far from the door, pacing back and forth. She turned on her heel and came to stand before White, eyes downcast and apologetic.

“I tried to tell her to wait in the assigned area but she just said that it would be quicker if she just stayed in your office. I’m sorry I didn’t notify you earlier but Public Security now has some of the N-XP 80 Flight Units. Her arrival must have gotten lost among all the others and…”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll see what she wants.”

Willow hesitated, looking to the side as they walked. “I think she’s in a bad mood.”

“When isn’t she when she has to deal with military matters? If Willow noticed it just means she isn’t bothering to hide it as well as she can.” Turning to her on-station assistant, White said, “Don’t worry about it. She’s just wired that way. I’m sure everything is fine.”

White continued on, not feeling near as reassured as she had just acted. The doors sliding open and revealing her unexpected guest.

Public Security Major 2B, currently serving as the senior security consultant for alien affairs. Which mostly ended up being a demanding and time-consuming job as she acted as a consultant on the efforts to fit their nascent civil law enforcement into something compatible with the greater galaxy’s.

This only made her un-announced arrival all the more unusual. 2B should have been far too busy with such matters to fly up to Heimdall for no reason and stand in White’s office waiting for her for almost an hour.

“Major 2B, I wasn’t expecting you. Is there something I can help you with?”

2B didn’t speak immediately, glancing over her left shoulder. Her gaze distant and her expression blank. She turned away and looked out the window again before speaking. “I never get tired of the view from space, you know. Up here troubles on Earth seem so far away. Almost like they’re… unreal.”

“I suppose,” White said, confusion slipping into her voice as she came closer. Coming to stand a short distance from 2B. The other android still in her uniform, the more colorful blue and black a compromise between YoRHa combat armor and less threatening aesthetic design. Though the sword, even sheathed, floating behind her countered that. “I’m not sure I follow though. 2B… why are you here?”

“Some of the Salarians that were selected for tours recently were xeno-geneticists. They talked quite a bit about the unusual effects that even secondary Maso exposure had had to the plants and animals. They also talked about some of their own work. They probably shouldn’t have,” 2B said, turning to face White at last, “but I guess some of our soldiers were spreading rumors about me.”

She didn’t speak. The words didn’t come, not quickly enough. Silenced by the pain she saw in 2B’s eyes.

“They were so proud of their work. Of their… solution to the Krogan problem. When they finished explaining it to me I asked them a question.”

“2B…”

“I asked them what they intend to do with it once the war ended. How they would help the Krogan after what they did to them.” 2B spoke slower than normal, holding onto her composure, but clearly strained. White looked down as she heard the creaking of 2B’s gloves, her right hand clenched so tight that her gloves would likely be damaged. “They told me White, that they already had. That this was helping them… and that they’re not sure if they could cure them even if they wanted to.”

“It’s complicated. They-we had to strike the Krogan in manner they can’t recover from if we want to force their surrender.”

“We didn’t destroy a key industry or capture a strategic resource White! We’ve all but sterilized them.” 2B looked away, her expression no longer blank. Clearly angry, furious… yet not centered on White herself. Instead she looked down at her own hands. “What are we even doing out here?”

“We’re protecting ourselves and Earth from those that would do harm. Or did you forget how close the Krogans are and how quickly they turned to aggression when we encountered them?”

“And that gives us the right to do this to them? To their children? To… to cripple them like this and claim it’s for their own good?”

“This is a war they started. One we’re they’ve already killed millions. In such a conflict it isn’t surprising if the tactics employed might seem unsavory.”

“Unsavory? You make it sound like my problem with this is a matter of tactics or some idiotic concept of honorable combat. It’s not what we’ve done to the Krogan alive now White, but what we’ve done to the next generation and the ones after them.” 2B turned away, leaning forward with her hands now pressed palm down onto White’s desk. Staring into the distant stars beyond the curve of Earth below them. “How much innocent blood is on our blades because we’ve taken part in this?”

White frowned, walking around 2B and coming to stand on the opposite side. Waiting until the other android looked up before she spoke. “And? Do you think we really make so great a difference? The Salarians would have offered the genophage regardless of our aid and the Turians have the fleets to take Krogan worlds and use it. Maybe it would have taken longer, but it still would have happened. Why does this bother you so much 2B? Not everyone that suffers in war deserves it. That’s… just how it is.”

“Because I never rejoined YoRHa for a reason. And because,” as 2B spoke her sword floated around to her right hand, where she set it on White’s desk, “this is not my sword. Not the one I used in the war. I have no idea what happened to that blood-soaked blade after my death between the chaos of it all and the machine networks leaving. But I have never drawn it to take an innocent life. This blade holds no regrets. I have tried to use it as a weapon of justice… and not a tool for executions.”

“I see,” White said, not looking up from the blade. Her eyes locked on the white-silver of the hilt. “And now you doubt yourself?”

“More every time I visit the prison camp and see them. They’re so… like we were. So young when they were sent off to fight.” 2B had an odd smile on her lips when she said, “I know they’re organic yet…”

“They’re not your responsibility 2B. Not beyond keeping them safe till we have somewhere else to send them.”

2B shook her head. “Aren’t they? Some of them have lived longer here than anywhere else now. And when we do send them off everything will be different than they remember. Destroyed thanks to our help.”

White sat in her chair, eyes closed as she thought over what 2B had said. “No matter your feelings, we’ve done what we had to. To preserve our own peace and society in a galaxy that’s far more dangerous than we had ever considered. I don’t think you have anything to feel guilty over. It’s not like you were out there with us when we took Tuchanka.”

2B picked up her sword, looking at it for a long moment before her NFCS pulled it back into its place behind her. “That’s the problem. Because despite everything I’ve said, and how I feel right now, I’m afraid I might have made the same choice if day after day I was slaughtering them with this sword.”

“I didn’t think you’d say that 2B,” White said in response, the honest admission relieving some of the tension that had filled the distance between them.

“It’s not an easy thing to accept.” 2B had turned, almost to the door when she spoke next. “Honestly White, as hard as I find it to deal with the Krogans we captured, I’m glad I’m here. I don’t think I could deal with this as well as you do.”

The doors slid open and 2B departed. Drowning White in heavy silence. Her solitude interrupted only by the blinking signals of incoming e-mails she ignored. Attention still focused on where 2B had stood. All while she wondered how nice it would be for 2B to have been right.

Chapter Text

Part 21

-: The bastards have been lying for years. They knew all along that the Gestalt process was flawed. And now they’re engaging in mass human testing to find a candidate to act as a stabilizing factor. With the weapons program from before… if the public were to find out…

-: No, they’d just cover it up. Even someone like me is expendable given the current conditions.

-: Shame they weren’t lying about the issues with brain scans and memory imprinting not serving as a method of preservation of life. Even discounting the issue of continuity the lack of context for transferred memories makes it useless at this moment. It’s either impossible or we’re still a generation of computational advancement from it even with breakthroughs that multi-origin theory has done for us.

-: I’m not sure which would be the more depressing result.

-: Damn it! It won’t do any good now. The Hamelin directors, those assholes that lied about what Luciferase does, and that bastard Adler. I can’t go public with their crimes. Not now. Not with everything riding on their success.

-: But I refuse to let them get away with this. There must be a reckoning for their sins. Too many have died for them, too many were sacrificed so they could play at being the saviors of Mankind.

-: I’ll talk it over with her at our next meeting. We still have some time to make plans before we’ll have to undergo the process, flawed though it might be.

Archive data February 23^rd, 2040. Participants UNKNOWN.

***

May 9^th, 12155, Element Zero Prospecting Outpost Kasper.

Generations of poets and writers had likened space to an ocean. An apt metaphor at first glance, the gulf between worlds stretching out far beyond sight, beyond their own mind’s ability to grasp. There was also an element of danger, much like onboard a ship, disaster could leave one stricken and floating far from any hope of rescue.

And finally it had represented the last great unknown, once all the seas had been sailed and the lands of Earth mapped and named.

Jackass had an alternative suggestion, which she suspected most humans just hadn’t felt like saying at the time.

Traveling by ship took a long time, entirely too long in her mind, and had never failed to leave bored out of her mind.

Space travel, space living, had only proven to be that taken to new and entirely unexpected levels of tedium.

“Spending decades accomplishing next to nothing certainly didn’t help.” Her footfalls came heavier on the metal grating, arms crossed as she looked down. Not looking up as she passed through door after door in the inner complex of the outpost. The greater proportion hidden within the asteroid to which they had first attached mining probes even before they’d encountered other alien life outside of their system. Though this particularly deposit of element zero had been nearly tapped out when she acquired it for her own uses. Not quite the free roaming command she would have liked, but at the current moment any ship of the necessary size would be too obvious. “Of course the best thing about having a mobile base wouldn’t be the added security but the possibility of a change of scenery from time to time.”

Her motion forward came to an abrupt stop, colliding with another figure. Jackass stepped back gasping in shock at the sensation of a hot liquid falling onto her hand. She held the soaked appendage out, her glare flicking from the steaming liquid dripping onto the floor and the man that she had collided with.

“The hell?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Ma’am! I was getting more coffee a-“

“Why?” She spoke tersely, flicking her hand to one side eyes narrowed on the android that had walked into her. His body language showed how apologetic he was. Useful as he had a pair of goggles, a type of older VR masks, covering his eyes. “Caffeine doesn’t do anything to us. And frankly that crap tastes horrid.”

“It’s not for me?” He stepped to the side, Jackass moving past him down the hall. More quietly saying, “Besides it doesn’t taste that bad.”

She didn’t turn to respond, barely paying attention to him as she passed. Note that he hadn’t become used to her temperament by now. Gunnar had worked under one capacity or another since she performed the salvage and analysis operations on the Machine Network’s tower after the end of the war. Everyone that had worked for her at any length had gotten used to her abrasive style of leadership. And the genuine concern that lay beneath that for other androids.

If based on her personal scruples, which didn’t put the highest concern on comfort and safety.

Which had taken some modifications as of late. The most significant reason for that now revealed behind the next door as she took another turn off from the main hall. Into rooms that had been some of the first constructed, and later modified, to provide some living spaces dedicated for the small number of organics now working here.

Small and growing, if at a rate that didn’t suit Jackass’s desires.

When the door slid open she glanced briefly at the workbench and computer consoles that filled most of the central area. Not seeing the occupant at the moment, she turned to one side and found the nearby sink. Washing the spilled liquid from her hand, she had just turned away looking for something to dry herself to find a small red wash rag held before her.

She didn’t show the surprise she felt, though not for the first time Jackass wondered if she might be losing her edge after so many years out of the war if someone could sneak up on her like that. Or whether Salarians were just unusually quiet when they felt like it.

“Given he’s ex-STG I might just have a sampling bias,” Jackass thought, taking the offered cloth.

“Thanks.”

“It is not a problem Jackass. I’m actually glad you came here,” Vercul spoke as he walked, turning away and moving quickly to the workbench. Sliding tablets, papers, and tools aside as he brought up the holographic display that had been covered. “I have been analyzing those un-activated OS-chips again since we managed to decompile the code into less high-level language. Unfortunately, I still believe that we are a long way from emulating the native debug software. Nor am I certain what exactly I’m looking at yet in the simulated consciousness data streams. But there is clearly blacked out portions, extremely minute processes that are hidden from your senses.”

“And everything else, since I couldn’t even find and perceive the fractional runtime drag on screen until he pointed it out.” Frankly she felt a little ashamed that she hadn’t been able to construct an entirely novel AI to do those tasks. But going back to first principles out of 21^st century texts had only produced intelligences that could charitably be called dog-like. “How they managed to remove the entire library of first generation AI research from our archives is just another question I don’t have any damn clue how to answer.”

“And any idea on how to move forward?”

“Some. It’s helpful that you were able to provide so many examples of early examples of human AI research from your own efforts.”

“If you can call those things AIs. The earliest P-20 series autonomous combat platforms were smarter than anything I had managed to piece together.”

“I suppose.” Vercul reached across and picked up a larger assemblage that Jackass had created for testing rudimentary systems. He tapped a finger against the case as he sat it down next to the dummy OS-chips, saying, “I understand that this is clearly an extremely limited system, but it does help me see how your native architecture functions.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call those good examples of either. They’re dumb as dirt, and no matter how I set them up I couldn’t get them to use all the processing power I made available.”

“Perhaps. Though if you think these are unimpressive then we should probably go over the limitations of most virtual intelligences in comparison to lower order sentience sometime. Even spontaneous reasoning and logic on that scale has proven very tricky to render into a stable program.”

Jackass flipped over one of the chips, revealing the logic circuits clustered along the lower right, upraised upon the thick layered silicon chip. Her fingers hesitated for moment, then touching down and feeling the thin grooves around the edges that would wire it into an android’s brain.

Much like one was in her own.

“Well I’m just lucky that this company worked on the early weapon designs during the WCS outbreak. When I started looking into this I picked up everything they had left in storage and got it off world before it could get ‘lost’ like all the rest of the crap I tried to find before.”

“I agree that it was quite fortuitous,” Vercul said, turning away towards the entrance as the door opened. He stepped forward and took an offered cup into his hands. “Though how is it that an… ‘Old World’ as you say, company managed to last some ten thousand years.”

“That is simple,” said the woman that had just entered. “It is a legacy company.”

Hearing her slightly stilted voice, Jackass turned towards the newcomer. Her long dark hair falling past her shoulders and over the collar of the simple blue and white jumpsuit she wore. Aside from an omni-tool on her left wrist and a satchel hanging from her right shoulder there was nothing remarkable or striking about her outfit. As plain as her expression, patiently waiting to see if anyone would respond to her offer of information.

Which of course Vercul did.

“What’s a ‘legacy company?’”

“Legacy companies were those organizations, either existing as commercial entities or NGOs, that were considered too useful for war efforts and infrastructure maintenance to be frozen in perpetuity until the time when their proper owners could be restored. Instead the Hamelin Organization in cooperation with local authorities prepared selected android administrating bodies to maintain their operations during the period of hibernation.”

“Thank you X5,” Jackass said, hoping that X5 would catch the tone in her voice and leave.

Sadly Vercul was far too interested to catch that cue. “Fascinating. So is there anything more you can tell me about legacy companies?”

“Of course. Not all survived through the initial alien invasion and the restructuring of higher command positions. The Hamelin Organization was dissolved into the Army of Humanity for instance. Others, such as Toha Heavy Industries and the Ashland Energy Corporation, were effectively destroyed during the invasion by the loss of most of their personal. Though even today some thirty percent of the initial legacy corporations still exist in some form.”

Jackass had turned to face X5, arms crossed and tapping her foot as the other android continued to speak. Totally ignoring the clear signs of irritation presented to her.

Witch Vercul intrigued by the stories taking another sip from his re-filled cup before dragging out the conservation even more. “So then, how did this company come to be operating a mining operation after starting as computer parts manufacturer?”

“Cerberus Technologies was originally a military contractor and innovator in electronic warfare applications before the 6/12 incident. Following the re-structing of the United States military and the need for autonomous warfare innovations they rose in prominence to become the premiere experimental weapons development firm in North America. Even serving as one of the initial licensed corporations to produce weapons making use of the Demonic Element. Because of the extreme reliance on such systems they came to control strategic stockpiles of rare earth minerals and Maso samples needed for the most advanced technological applications. With the discovery of Element Zero it was only natural that they attempted to secure sources of it as well.”

“That will be all X5.” Jackass waving towards the door. “You’re dismissed.”

She turned towards Jackass, expression still dull and plain. “Of course. I hope I provided useful information to you both.”

After she left Jackass noticed how Vercul was staring at her, the unsaid question still hanging in the air. “So you never asked about her.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.” Vercul set his half empty cup down on the table before continuing. “She doesn’t seem to act… right. I’d almost say she wasn’t a proper AI.”

“She isn’t. Not really. It’s a messy story. Though in some ways it’s related to what she was talking about.”

“How?”

Jackass looked at Vercul, thinking for long lingering moment about what she had just been asked. “This isn’t exactly a light topic… but then I’ve been trusting A2 and White’s referrals on him enough to have him digging around in our programming.”

Her mind made up Jackass said, “Basically my control over parts of Cerberus wasn’t just handed over because I asked. I blackmailed the director.”

“You did?”

“Yea, well he’s lucky that’s all I did. You see, before the war ended I had just found out that Lawson had been skimming war materials off for centuries into private caches to re-sell to exiles and to trade the surplus to resistance armies for profit. There’s no doubt that tens of thousands died because of his actions. Hell, I was just about to report him to White so that some E-type could be sent in to deal with him.”

“E-types?”

“It’s not important anymore,” Jackass said, waving her right hand before continuing. “Either way with the chaos of the war ending and the lack of central authority for decades after there was no point. And then we had a general pardon too. Just to smooth things over and bring any exile groups back into general society nearly all criminal actions would be forgiven if they were committed below the level of High Command. So technically he isn’t guilty of anything as he wasn’t high enough up in command to be exempt from that. For all the good it would do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, we live a long time Vercul. And even if we don’t have a… what’s the word that Pod 153 used? Oh, “Jackass snapped her fingers as it came to her. “Frontier justice was how they described it.”

“What’s that mean? I’m not sure it’s translating right.”

“Just that back during the war if you screwed up the only punishments were being exiled if you couldn’t make amends within your local camp or settlement. Well, officially anyway. Which is Lawson’s problem. If I ever went public with the records of his crimes it wouldn’t matter if there’s no crime to convict him with at the moment in our haphazard attempt to recreate Old World government systems.”

Vercul nodded. “I think I understand your meaning now.”

“Yeah, there’d be nowhere safe in the whole solar system for him to hide from the androids coming for him. So, when I needed a way off world and resources I basically informed him of what I knew. That and I might of hinted I knew about it because I was from High Command instead of finding inconsistencies in his supply reports.”

“You insinuated you were a war criminal in hiding?” Vercul picked up his cup, taking another sip and said, “Impressive. No doubt that put you in a better bargaining position. Though how did you keep him from calling your bluff and trying to go public using your faked identity as leverage?”

“I have enough contacts in Public Security and YoRHa that I easily convinced him there was no one to report me to. So he gave me everything I asked for, including that stockpile of resources and control over all the off-world operations he’d started investing into.”

“Why did you even leave him in control though?”

“A cover. I’m not from High Command and I couldn’t come out and reveal publicly that I was still alive. I needed someone like him, corrupt and controllable, to act as the figurehead while I siphoned off resources into our current operation. Course that’s also why X5 exists.” Jackass looked off to the side, frowning. “And why she’s so messed up.”

“That does not make any sense to me.”

“You’ve looked at our OS-chips and consciousness data in isolated non-active simulations, but when it comes to an active android there’s some quirks to it. In a way it is sort of similar to how you described standard AIs. You can’t put too much information in the initial data along with the base personality if you want something stable to come out of it.”

Jackass rifled through a pile of folders, fishing out a single datapad. A few moments later she nodded, satisfied with what she had brought up.

“Here’s an example. Standard language, kinesthetic programing, and logic circuit integration with the selected personality seed. The additional software package set up for integration into initial activation is the base recon and applied tactics kit. A design set up for curiosity and introspection while being inclined towards long periods of work away from other androids alone or in small teams.”

Vercul took the offered pad from Jackass’s hand. He scanned down the file, taking it all in. “That doesn’t seem like much.”

“It isn’t, not really. It’s also me, more or less. At activation anyway.” Jackass took the pad back, looking down at the approximate example of her own base programming. A slight smile on her lips before she dismissed it and started bringing up something else. “Everything I am beyond that is made up of things I learned later. Chemistry, applied physics, improvised explosives… hell, that I even know how to drive a jeep. None of that was in my initial data. If it had been I’d be different, even with the same basic personality seed at the core of it all. And when you increase the initial software load there’s a longer period of adjustment before an android’s consciousness data fully forms.”

“Before that happens an android is more like a virtual intelligence?”

“You could say that. I’m not sure if it’s perfectly accurate.” Jackass turned away from the door, shaking her head as she sat down on a nearby stool. “It’s not like there’s a lot of examples of this… problem. X5 is basically it. That adjustment period is normally measured in hours, maybe a day at the longest.”

“And how does this connect to Cerberus?”

“Lawson, the director… well after I left Earth he started getting into new projects since I more or less took all the mineral speculation and mining plans he’d set up out from under him. And at some point he got the bright idea to go back to Cerberus Technologies original mandated purpose in making better automated weapons systems. By trying to make a synthetic biotic.”

“But that’s impossible!”

“Not anymore, not that she can do more than just barely register a biotic field after a decade of training. The problem is they went well beyond that, figuring that this new prototype series would need a lot of additional data to better optimize their biotic implant. So,” Jackass handed over the pad once more, “look at all this crap.”

Vercul read over it, his eyes moving slower as he comprehended what he was seeing fully and what it meant about X5. “Experimental physics, laboratory practices, xeno-neurology… this seems like an excessive amount.”

“That and the programming they cobbled together for controlling the biotic implant hadn’t been optimized at all. They just shoved it in her and turned her on.” Jackass felt her hands clench, fingers tightening. “I could have programmed something better. Or at least I wouldn’t have stuck it in new android in order to test it!”

“And she’s still like this?”

Jackass shook her head, a short bitter laugh coming from her as she stood again. Stepping away from the center table, her anger boiling over and leaving her restless. “Hardly. She’s X5 not because that was the number assigned to her personality but because they kept hard resetting her. This is the fifth version they tried.”

Vercul stepped back, hands fidgeting as he glanced down. Speaking slowly when he at last found his voice once more. “They killed her?”

“Basically. I mean it was resetting her consciousness data, pulling chips and trying again to see if they got her to activate right. I only found out about it when Lawson contacted me about it. Cause not only did the he do this but he actually registered her beforehand. So someone was going to come along and want to see how said new android was doing.”

“Surely this would have been considered a criminal act? I mean… how could it not be?”

“It isn’t,” Jackass said, an unkindly smile taking to her lips. “Not that it would matter. Lawson would have gotten a new law drawn up just for him. Like that case out of Neo London where someone had been trying to alter her partner’s consciousness data. Nothing like that existed explicitly in Old World laws so they had to come up new regulations about it. The same would have happened here.”

“But I couldn’t do that,” Jackass thought, a sense of deep shame filling her. She’d rationalized it easily enough, the need to keep Lawson around for at least a little while longer, but that hadn’t made his victim disappear.

“Anyway,” she said, coming around to face Vercul once more, “ever since then I’ve had her here, with the official reports about X5 drawn up to make it look like she’s a fine, healty, and otherwise uninteresting android working on deep space mining operations.”

“And she’s happy here?”

Jackass shrugged. “Not really a meaningful question. Her emotional development is inhibited. And it’s not a hardware problem. Something to do with her software and the interactions from everything they tried to shove into her at once. After all the diagnostic scans came back without finding anything I just decided to sit and wait.”

The sound of the atmosphere scrubber cycling filled the silence. The Salarian moving tools about on the table before him, clearly deep in thought. Dismissing the holographic display he turned towards Jackass, looking her in the eyes.

“What if she worked for me as an assistant?”

“If you’re looking for someone’s brain to pick you should probably pick an android who doesn’t have her issues.”

“No, I mean she could assist me with the research in trying to find security faults in android programming. She has more than enough data installed to help out at least.”

“Vercul I…” Jackass hesitated. Even with all the data already installed, X5 would still take time to be brought up to speed on Vercul’s work. “He was chosen for this because A2 marked him as having ‘moral inflexibility.’ It’s hardly surprising he’d get attached to a charity case like X5.”

“Fine. Just don’t spend all your time trying to fix her. We’ve got bigger things to worry about than one android’s fate.”

Chapter Text

Part 22

‘UNKNOWN-1’ -: You understand what you’re considering?

‘UNKNOWN-2’ -: Yes. Treasonous action against the Hamelin Organization and UN World Purification Project. But what’s the alternative?

‘UNKNOWN-1’ -: Staying quiet. I’ve done my part and fought my battles already…

‘UNKNOWN-2’ -: And how many in your squad died because they lied? Over ninety percent of the sixth crusade was annihilated. For what? A brief respite at best for all those lives spent, all while they lied about the effectiveness of your weapons and what Luciferase actually does.

‘UNKNOWN-1’ -: Killing that red-eyed bastard set me up pretty well in case you forgot. And so they lied. That drug basically doesn’t do shit if you don’t believe in it. ‘Applied pyscho-reactivity’ according to the lab techs. Hell, you’re the one that sent me those sealed reports in the first place.

‘UNKNOWN-2’ -: I did that so you could see what I uncovered. Why it was important that we worked together.

‘UNKNOWN-1’ -: Don’t lie to me, you only need my help because you’d teamed up with that fucking sociopath and lost nearly everything. Hope the cowardly asshole chokes to death on the salt.

‘UNKNOWN-2’ -: I don’t deny that Yura had… problems. But he was an effective agent. And without him I’d never have recovered all the files on the Maso exposure experiments.

‘UNKNOWN-1’ -: Yeah. Those poor kids. God, did you meet the one that lived?

‘UNKNOWN-2’ -: Yes. I’ve set up an android caretaker for the time being. Once things have settled we’ll have to look into his case again. I don’t have Dr. Adler’s expertise, but I’m not sure his condition is stable given the reaction that his sister showed to similar levels of exposure.

‘UNKNOWN-1’ -: Damnit. Fine, I’ll help you again. But not so you can play hero understand? Too many children used as weapons in this war, too many for me to save. And I don’t want to see those responsible for signing off on all this getting away with it.

‘UNKNOWN-2’ -: I’m glad we’re on the same page here Kali. I don’t think I could do this on my own after the last disaster.

Archive data February 29^th, 2040.

Searching for more information based on mentioned names…

Yura Masayoshi

Lieutenant Major (JSDF):

Discharged after psychological review.

Showed extreme aptitude for manipulation of Maso and multi-origin derived effects as well as a strong reaction to Luciferase despite his age.

Recruited into the Counter-measure against Special Biological Organisms Department (CSB-OD) following dismissal from the JSDF under administrative recommendation.

Following his attack on a Hamelin Organization experimental weapons research lab and the subsequent disappearance of sensitive lab materials he vanished from records.

Later re-appeared under the assumed name ‘Tyrann’ and underwent gestaltification. Following the discovery of his true identity his replicant data was destroyed.

Further records SEALED by Administrative Authority.

Identity noted, but not found within archived recording.

‘Kali’

Codename used by Hana Himura

Commander of 63^rd Squad, 6^th Crusade

Distinguished herself in battle while surviving a total of thirty-seven combat encounters culminating in landing the deathblow on an incidence of the ‘Red-eye’ entity. Following this she was retired from active military duty and awarded a considerable stipend for her service.

Her genetics showed an unusually strong reaction to the drug Luciferase as well, which motivated the Hamelin Organization to use her as a template for the Vasilisa Program.

Further information regarding the product of this program is SEALED by Administrative Authority.

Hana Himura underwent gestlatification on December 24^th, 2054 two months after stabilizing element *ERROR* was located and taken into custody by the Hamelin Organization.

Her gestalt body began to suffer advanced stages of relapse and all life signs ceased on January 5^th, 3474.

All further information SEALED by Administrative Authority.

Identity of ‘UNKNOWN-1’ confirmed. Will save this information for all subsequent archive retrievals.

***

August 14^th, 12155, Element Zero Prospecting Outpost Kasper.

“Performing simulation test 27. Begin recording.”

“Yes Vercul.”

The screen came alive, a scrolling mass of code, growing in complexity as the OS-chip began to construct a functioning system even within the harsh restrictions of the simulated hardware. As it began to accelerate its growth the system began to slow, ratcheting down the allowed processing speed to the point that the bank of additional computers nearby could record every element and every new connection for later analysis.

“Okay, freeze program and move over to the secondary iterations.” Vercul moved over to the other console quickly, bringing up the holographic display which then separated into multiple screens

In truth constructing a dummy program to run the OS-chips without producing functional consciousness data had been the hard part of this experiment. Vercul had spent weeks fruitlessly trying to construct the proper program. Eventually he’d gotten an update from his Earth-based collaborator which had given him the key to moving forward with his research.

Thankfully X5 had turned out to be an acceptable lab assistant despite what Jackass had said about keeping ‘realistic expectations’ about what she would be capable of. While he had noted the limitations, he had also come to see that her problem might be less severe than the Androids examining her believed. Potentially coming about from a personal bias none of them had ever had the need to consider.

She didn’t act exactly like a virtual intelligence has he had first suspected. Instead X5 seemed to be a strange wielding of rudimentary reasoning and logic, an eidetic memory, and culminating an extremely quick solving of those problems she could break apart into manageable components. All of which went well beyond a VI, even if it failed to meet what the Androids had come to consider normal for their own cognition.

Frankly she reminded him of a child.

“A young Salarian perhaps, hard to judge the age I’d place her at though. Two… maybe three years?” He spared a brief glance towards her. X5 observed in her own work, one hand adjust the speed of the program while the other continued typing her precise, if somewhat wordy, notes on the experiment. “Though that might be the problem. For all the attempts the Androids have made to resemble their creators they rarely consider how important the stages of cognitive development are to understanding an organic species and their mindset. They simply didn’t recognize what they were observing as it was so alien to their own experiences.”

He doubted Jackass would have entirely approved of him constructing a lesson plan to gradually bring X5 closer to the expected range of skills and behaviors. It would have proven her right after all that he had been distracted by this odd problem, spending time better allocated to his primary research then scaffolding an Android with X5’s ‘problems’ up to a higher range of logical and emotional reasoning.

“Though if one considers how much effort she’d already put into X5 I doubt she’s against the idea on principle.” Vercul had ultimately decided that Jackass seemed like the sort of person that preferred people to just implement their ideas and be proven right instead of coming to her to beg for permission for each and every endeavor.

“Vercul I think I’m seeing something here. There is an increasing delay in the processing speed, as expected if our generalized attack programs had found a weakness in the simulation.” X5 froze her set of the simulations, not waiting for Vercul to tell her she could, and stepped back so he could move over and look at the display. “Furthermore, I cannot perceive what is causing the slow down, as expected from the hidden exploits.”

That wasn’t all she didn’t see of course, as Vercul looked quite pleased with himself as he leaned over to look at the results.

“This is quite good X5. I’m glad you caught this. Freeze the remaining simulations for later analysis while we run this one a bit longer,” Vercul said, eyes locked on the data displayed before him. “I think we found it.”

***

“I must have misheard you,” Jackass said. Vercul seated across from her, desk cluttered with datapads, various notebooks, and a variety of mechanical parts that had likely been part of something she had judged not sufficiently important to keep her from dissembling it when she couldn’t be bothered to get the appropriate part from the storage area on the other side of the complex. “You’re saying I was wrong about it being hidden how exactly?”

“It is hidden from your perception yes, but you supposed that this had been some undetailed security feature installed by the original human programmers. I’m telling you that I now believe that to be impossible.” Vercul placed his last report on top of the desk, the tablet rolling to the side on a misplaced screw before Jackass picked it up. “The security exploits I found were hidden from your ability to perceive, but moreover had also been hidden from every conceivable method of user access. I only found the existence of this… alteration by examining progressively more complex simulations of OS-chips until it formed.”

“Formed? You mean… it’s fucking malicious software?”

“In a sense. I’ve been referring to it as the ‘Root’ system thus far, but it appears to have been implemented into your OS-chips in such a fashion that it remains inactive unless the Android is actually activated and allowed to form a functioning consciousness data set. At which point the Root system expands outwards, altering perception so that the Android doesn’t notice it exists and so that no user…” Vercul stopped, rethinking his words for a moment. “No ‘technician’ would notice what had been done without being aware of the system’s existence in the first place.”

Jackass didn’t speak. Her gaze trailed down the damning report before her. Saying at last, “Did the humans do this?”

“If they did it was done in secret. There’d be no reason to hide this system so thoroughly at the time as the Machine Lifeforms would not invade for another three thousand years. I can only conclude that someone implemented it in secret. Though for what purpose I am at a complete loss.”

“There’s no point to this! We… why would this even be necessary?” The pad fell from her hands as she leaned back. Staring off to the side, expression dark and hands clenched tight at her sides. “We’d never think of doing anything that would have required a control method like this.”

“I am aware of that. And how it functions can only lead me to believe that it was done without the permission and knowledge of those primarily involved in your initial… creation I suppose. I could also have occurred later.”

“Would that be possible?”

“Assuming they had access to the full records and files by the original human creators.” Vercul paused, looking down at his hands. “It wouldn’t be impossible. We can’t know for sure though.”

The silence that followed lingered long and heavy. Neither Android nor Salarian speaking. One merely waiting for the other to grasp the full weight of what had been discovered.

“Okay,” Jackass said at last, standing up as she did so. “How do we remove this? Even if it’s functioning as you said we should still be able create a program to edit it from our consciousness data.”

“Not using simulations though. I’d need to deconstruct the full system while active.”

“So? We’ll just back them up beforehand.”

Vercul shook his head, picking up the same datapad from before. “Because of the nature of this malicious software I’d need to perform destructive analysis on dozens… hundreds of consciousness data in order to create a general patch. And I’m not sure it wouldn’t reconstruct itself from traces left in those hidden sectors in your memory banks. Your primary OS is disturbingly intricate. Furthermore, I will not take part in the torture living androids.”

“They’ll be fine!” Jackass glared down at the Salarian. Daring him to object again.

Yet his will did not weaken.

“And what about me? What about you?” Vercul asked. “How many Androids are you willing to torture to death to create a limited patch. One that might fail even when we finish?”

The sound of glass shattering on metal echoed through the room. Half of the desk now cleared as the contents fell to the floor or collided against the adjacent wall. The scattered bits of debris colliding with Vercul’s feet. Jackass letting out a sound that seemed almost… animalistic. An inarticulate growl that told Vercul that if he’d been examining her data at that moment she would have been quite ‘emotionally disturbed.’

“This shouldn’t be an insoluble problem. With more advanced computer systems it should be possible to perform the necessary simulations without having to harm a living Android.”

“And what, just wait around till someone finds out about this and subverts us?” She stepped roughly past the broken glass, each footfall grinding the shards down as she passed.

“That shouldn’t be an issue. As it stands I don’t think that’s possible. The Root system requires admin codes and a level of familiarity with your internal systems that just any hacker simply wouldn’t have. Your really only in serious danger from an Android without this system installed.”

“Great. So, they’ve got an insurmountable advantage over us and you refuse to help. You’re not filling me with confidence here.” Jackass let out a bitter laugh as she turned to face Vercul again. “And waiting for better computers? These are the best we could get and they still weren’t good enough to do this without eventually using active OS-chips instead of just a limited simulation. What makes you think a computer advanced enough can even be made?”

“The Protheans.”

Jackass cocked her head to one side and stared at Vercul. Not as angry as before, but now slightly confused.

“How do you figure? Prothean systems are practically unintelligible. Even ignoring the other quirks they installed.”

“Yes, I suppose the preponderance of mind-machine interfaces keyed to organic brains must have presented a problem for you,” Vercul said, not responding to the glare and nearly whispered words of ‘Oh you just realized that?’ “But Prothean systems are undoubtedly more advanced than anything we’ve been able to construct thus far. It’s actually something of long-standing problem, not helped by how Protheans must have had a unique neurology that allowed them to skip several stages of computer design.”

“Listen Vercul, I don’t really care about these dead aliens everyone else in the galaxy seems so enamored with. If you want to nerd out with someone,” Jackass pointedly ignored the confusion in Vercul’s expression from her informal slang, “open a secured channel to 9S or someone else that spent decades trying to get the Mar’s outpost to reveal its secrets to us. I want to know what we can do about this problem right now.”

“I do have a plan. But I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

“Compared to everything else I’m sure I can deal with whatever you’ve thought up.”

“I believe we can formulate a new firewall for Android consciousnesses using a variation of the programming used in the Machine Lifeforms.”

***

Jackass hadn’t liked it.

“But she did agree to my reasoning. Simple systems like the machine fish and older generation Machine Lifeform units showed that the evolution of their intelligence can be capped off or directed towards relatively non-destructive and safe objectives.” In a way he likened it to the complexity of multicellular evolution, differing organism coming together to form a larger whole. In principal a new non-Android firewall could be adapted into their programming with limited interference, cannibalizing a minute amount of processing speed that would quickly be adapted around or mollified with only minor hardware modifications. And which could serve as a warning of otherwise undetectable commands being sent to the Android in question.

If the machine fish could exist in such a harmonious life with their organic duplicates, he was certain that an extremely rudimentary system could be constructed that would do the same for the Androids as a whole.

Now he’d gone well beyond his comfort zone, and would rely mostly on his Earth-side collaborators and others to provide the technical skill that he would check against the test simulations and later Android volunteers for success. Even if he had no idea how to use this hidden system to subvert them he could still check to see if it triggered when he transmitted signals to the appropriate channels.

“Of course, that won’t do for new Androids. We’ll also have to find someone willing to re-engineer OS-chips and the primary software. And I’ll have to review that as well.” Vercul took another long drink from his cup. He’d been working rather long shifts of late on this project and would enjoy the downtime now that specialists in Machine Lifeform code were being contacted. “I’m not sure how I’d function on only forty-five minutes of sleep without this coffee.”

“Are you busy Vercul?”

“Yes X5?”

He turned around to see the Android had just entered. A slightly more relaxed outfit than the one she wore most of the time, a slim jacket and mid-length shorts, feet clad in easily slipped on shoes that were not meant for being worn in particularly harsh environments. The sheathed training sword at her side told why she was dressed that way.

Vercul had insisted she find something to do with herself when not working beyond waiting to work or reading about topics related to their tasks. And an emptied storage area that had been set aside for Androids that found the tedium of space living made them restless had seemed the perfect solution. X5 had eventually settled into simple martial training with a short light practice blade Jackass had fabricated after being asked about it repeatedly.

There had been a definite improvement in her behavior and expression that now felt far closer to normal emotional responses.

Though now she seemed… bothered by something.

“Are you alright X5?” Vercul asked, standing up as she walked closer. Setting her sheathed blade by her side as she sat down.

“I…” she paused, staring at him for a long moment before blinking and looking away. Finally speaking again, voice not as steady as he had come to expect from her. “What we found, it could be used to control Androids. Couldn’t it?”

“It likely already has, in some limited since.” Vercul thought over her words, trying to think of the right response to make at this moment. He was computer technician and an electronic warfare specialist, not trained in childhood development. But he still felt like he had to try. “Maybe. But I’m not sure it’s as easy to use for that as it might appear. Not without a native understanding of your programming that simply isn’t widely known now and will be very hard to obtain.”

He probably should have added ‘potentially impossible for a non-synthetic lifeform’ but he bet against implying that the greatest danger of misuse might come from other Androids. And clearly that hadn’t had the calming effect he had wanted.

“But then what? How can we-how can you trust us if… if…”

“X5. Please give me your hands.” She hesitated, not sure at all as to his intentions. Vercul asked again, placing his own over hers as she started to raise them. “Don’t worry. I just want to explain something to you. Okay?”

She nodded, letting him guide her. Lifting her hands up and placing them just behind his head so her fingers touched.

“It wouldn’t be hard,” he said, “just a matter of proper incisions, a few relatively electronic components to make a neural implant. The Batarians have started using them, though their attempts are crude compared to what we could do. Simple behavior conditioning through direct application of negative stimulus. But one can do far more than that.”

She was staring at him as he spoke, her expression no longer pained but now unreadable. Whatever she might have thought he intended, this was not it.

“I’d have to sever the lobes, right down the middle between your fingers. Place a optical implant under the left eye and use a chemical to force familial imprinting. Could be used to cause rapid learning and mental conditioning. Would lower life expectancy of course. But that’s because we don’t practice such techniques. They are,” Vercul finished, letting X5 pull her trembling hands back as he did, “immature after all.”

“Why-why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are not special,” Vercul said, standing once more. “Ways to subvert the mind and wills of organic beings have been known to every civilization and every species. We choose not to do such because we are better than that.”

“Or we should be. We wish we were.” Vercul looked away, trying not to think of what he had taken part of in the Krogan Rebellions. Of how his species had chosen to help the Krogan be their foot soldiers and now nearly sterilized them.

And most importantly about how even with the Genophage, he knew he wouldn’t get to see the end of the war, nor stand to look at the causality reports that still came out for every hard fought battle that ground the Krogan’s war machine to dust.

Instead he gestured to X5’s sheathed blade, and took it from her when the still shocked Android offered it. Drawing it as he stepped back a safe distance he noted how the light blade reminded him of an even lighter and shorter sword that he had practiced with. A hobby of sorts, drawn from the family lines of a Salarian Queen whose particular choice for selecting mates for her and her family had been chosen by skills both martial and artistic. Long, long ago, when space travel had been a fantastical dream and not a common reality.

Now such things only existed in tawdry stories and fictional dramas. Though the strange mix of the modern and archaic which so many Androids choose for their personal aesthetic often reminded him of such things.

Though such thoughts were not why he had asked to hold her blade.

“There’s an old saying, one which I doubt humans didn’t know as well. Even if they said it differently. ‘Science without morality is a blade without a hilt, a danger to others and to oneself.’” He sheathed the sword again, handing it back to X5. “Do you understand X5? No matter what we discover as long as we keep in mind the ends our research may be put to we will be able to control it. It is only when we lose sight of that that we are truly in danger.”

X5 held her sword, staring at the simple hilt, light ridges of reflective metal catching the light above and distorting her reflection. Turning her gaze upwards again, a spark of comprehension that he couldn’t be sure had been there before.

“Yes. I think I do.”

Chapter Text

I received your latest message and have forwarded it to the appropriate parties. While I do share your reservations about the direction recommended, I think there may not be any other way to proceed at the moment.

The safer alternatives appear to have been exhausted.

As such I agree with the request for a specialist on machine lifeforms. Obviously, he can’t be briefed on the full purpose of your research, but you should be able to come up with suitable explanations and security measures to prevent classified information from reaching him. Our recruitment specialist can go over the particulars for keeping them comfortable when she arrives. 

You’ll probably enjoy the freedom to work out the rest yourself.

She’ll oversee the actual transportation at the earliest opportunity. Expect contact from her when things are ready for the transfer.

-        White, Secured Transmission

August 19th, 12155

***

December 3rd, 12155, Citadel

The soft reverberating hum of the shuttle’s engines had slowed, coming to idle as they landed. A barely perceptible hum now just outside the range of most specie’s hearing. Not so her own, though that hadn’t been much of an issue yet.

Turning the sensitivity of her auditory sensors down had sufficed to limit the annoyance that the shuttle’s engine proved.

Stepping outside she took in the vibrancy of life before her, distant and so numerous. While the military and civilian representatives of organic species numbered in the dozens for each organization let alone nation, Earth had sent a far more modest envoy. Aside from herself, and Pod 331 acting as her personal support for the evening, only nine others had been selected. A few officers that had requested the opportunity to meet aliens in a more social environment and some who had been forced to attend by virtue of their personal commands being in need of repair. And finally, a sole councilor attending to show the non-military leadership that existed among Android society and their own assistant.

Compared to the sea of alien life they stuck out easily among the crowd, surrounded by no small number of inquisitive sorts curious about the new synthetic species.

“Hardly surprising,” White thought, already dreading the questions she might soon be faced with. For many this was their first time encountering an Android. Worst still the rumors of their unique traits had become far more common. This had been expected after all, but even then, this did little to lessen the lingering looks and hesitant questions to barrage Androids now that the truth had come out.

She feared that not a single alien species was fully comfortable to the reality of synthetic life. A feeling she shared in truth, if coming from the opposite direction. Made so much harder in a place like this.

Before her encounters with alien life had been soldiers, scientists, and politicians. It was easy to forget the reality of biological life and all it entailed at times, to simply ignore what it meant for one of them to speak of a parents, siblings, or children. But here, on the Citadel that thin veneer of purposely constructed intellectual evasion could not be maintained. Even from the windows of the shuttle as they landed she could see family groups, the young and the old, down below along the great length of the Presidium. This celebratory enclave above the common citizens of the galaxy at large might have featured less of that, save for a Asari so old their skin had taken a lighter shade marred by dark blue blemishes that told of how far they now were into the twilight of their lives.

White didn’t know the precise numbers, but she guessed that probably meant they were almost as old as she was.

“Well, I suppose it depends on where you count from,” White thought, raising her right arm across her breast and touching a patch stitched onto the left shoulder. The upraised stiches of silver-white thread on the dark blue background rubbed against her fingers and told her without looking what shape they formed. A memento of her history from long ago.

Even if the original had been incinerated on the Bunker’s destruction.

Her current attire took more from later uniforms she had worn of course. Such as the YoRHa one, all white and gold, designed for a boldness not seen outside of old historical videos of human militaries on parade marches. Even by the standards set by the rank and file it had stood out.

This new style of dress took some inspiration from it, though the colors had shifted. Navy blue now set to the trim of gold, the skirt replaced by longer pants that tightened at where her boots began. Now a hanging sash tied about her waist of white and gold, a cord of black threaded through the center. A special ornament set aside for those few hundreds that had served in YoRHa during that last calamitous war. Mere ornamentation, unlike the short saber at her side.

Even if she’d never drawn the later in battle as it were.

Above that the double layered buttons went in rows five high, stopping just above her bust. The jacket closed before revealing the design of her undershirt, an intricate twisting pattern that was meant to evoke thoughts of flowers. Though White had never seen the similarity herself, and even now that she’d had time to see what a proper garden looked like during the reconstruction it seemed more akin to brambles and woven thorns than blossoms.

From her left collar hung three tiny silver shards, pins like downward pointed blades under a bar of gleaming steel. The accepted design for admiralty settled upon as the scattered armies of Mankind came together in peace. The medals, flat disks of steel and copper, had fairly resilient patterns of readable data printed upon the back.

Though White had long thought it something of a waste to put so much effort into personalizing trinkets that had served next to no proper purpose.

But then she’d also substituted a personalized badge of the Crux, the Southern Cross, onto her right shoulder in place of just a standard YoRHa symbol for this seldom worn outfit. A distant reminder of her time serving in the Australian Civil and Coastal Defense Patrol. She even had an original back in her quarters.

Or more correctly a copy thereof, much as her own body had been rebuilt after the end of the war. The original had been in her room on the Bunker after all. Jackass had claimed to have ‘found’ a spare to replace hers, though she doubted it had been that easy to come by.

Then again, the other android was a fairly decent seamstress in addition to many other skills.

White pulled her arm away, taken from the distant memories as an Asari came forward to welcome her arrival. “Admiral White.” She said, “I am very pleased to welcome your arrival. We weren’t sure if you would make it in time for the ceremony. If you would please follow me to your seats.”

White couldn’t tell if the smile on those blue lips could be read as part of their shared behavioral cues or a sign of nervousness. Still she nodded in return saying, “Yes, well your Citadel is a good deal larger than I expected.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve worked here for almost a hundred years and it still surprises me. After the ceremony concludes I can recommend a good VI tour guide, not one of those dumb ones that’s just a map and a set of extranet links.” She managed a full three steps before her she realized what she’d just said. Turning quickly, a very honest expression of shock now coloring her features in embarrassment. “I-I’m very sorry. I mean… I didn’t mean that you… I-“

The quickening descent of her guide into stuttered apologies looked like it was going nowhere. White wasn’t even offended, merely confused. Did they really think that Androids worried about the relative level of personhood invested in every stray data system or autonomous platform?

“If anything, we’re more biased against AIs in many cases. You can still find traditionalist sentiments arguing against all sorts of changes made during reconstruction.” Of course, this Asari didn’t know that. Likely she didn’t even know a fraction of Earth’s long and sordid history of warfare between synthetic beings.

“I suppose I can try and judge its capabilities. Perhaps I might try and hire it as a new assistant. It would certainly be nice to have one that doesn’t spend so much time invested in personal drama.”

White held her smile a tad longer than she wanted, hoping that she’d gotten the right reaction.

The Asari for her part was no longer looking panicked. Just shocked.

“Was that a joke?”

“Not a very good one I suppose?” White asked with a frown. Continuing with, “Well, humor has never been a specialty of mine. Regardless, don’t you think we should continue before we miss the ceremonies? You can always tell me more about this VI guide later.”

***

Later hadn’t come.

White hardly cared though. Whether or not her attempts to lighten tension had succeeded she’d barely noticed the absence of the Asari from earlier. Her attention now far more focused on the events that had made up the ceremony. A somewhat ostentatious, to her standards at least, introduction of various Asari and Salarian military representatives. Few she had ever heard of and even fewer still met.

The fleets under their commands harrying the Krogan well away from the systems they had secured through one battle after the next so as to strike at the heart of the Krogan forces. Taking Tuchanka for so short a time at the cost of so many ships.

So many lives.

“All so as to poison their young. What a well-made instrument of death you are.” Her grip tightened, the metal in her hands biting into her skin and soon to bend before the metal underneath it if she did not relent. The gunmetal ornament, the oval disk at the center of the mantle like necklace, a token of the highest military honor. Or at least that which could be rendered to an allied power, and not within the Hierarchy itself.

She supposed she should be proud that they’d given her this. The first High-Reed Accountment in seven centuries. Likely not to be the last, as the Turian Hierarchy had for the first time in centuries to deal with fully independent nations and not the rebellious factions of their own species.

But she felt no pride in her award, no satisfaction in it’s weight when it was set upon her palm. The quarter kilo of etched metal, the alien pattern holding little meaning beyond an aesthetic appreciation for the symmetry of the design, was just a material embodiment of the actions she had been part of. Lives lost and lives taken, now memorialized as token. One she couldn’t even set about her neck, the metal cords of it not right for her body.

An oversight that had quite embarrassed the Turian representative handing it out.

She would have to have it fitted for herself before it could be worn among those other many mementos of long past battles. Looking down at it she felt relief to see she hadn’t damaged it as her thoughts wandered. Still she neither wanted to hold it any longer nor hand it off to the Android that had volunteered to take care of the various posthumous awards, those Nova Clusters that the Hierarchy had also brought along.

In they had made her and the Android portion of the ceremony in general considerably longer than expected. The Turian side of most of this affair long since handled in private but lacking clear idea on Android customs, what that they were, they had attempted to find the appropriate time for this.

White sincerely hoped whomever had told them to just hand it all off at the earliest convenience was happy with themselves. It had been a grim and awkward affair for so much time to be spent focused on her species and the lives they had lost. Especially given the point had been to celebrate the turning point in the conflict with the Krogan. Their fleets were now fully dedicated to retreating defense from occupied systems into the regions of space that had long ago been set aside for their colonies after the Rachni war.

Earth no longer in immediate danger from another attack. Nor the structure she stood on for that matter. Over twenty thousand light-years from Earth, some one hundred and ninety quadrillion kilometers…

“You seem distracted.” White turned quickly, finding Arguis at her side. Looking a little lighter after his time in intensive care. Even discounting the prosthetic that had replaced his left forearm after a rather nasty infection from Tuchanka had set in and required amputation. Though he was alive, and his own freshly awarded steel medallion hanging around his neck. The gleaming metal reflecting the light of the nearest star in darker observation area that White had retreated to after the ceremony concluded.

“I apologize,” White said, thankful for the distraction from her earlier thoughts. “I should have sought you out earlier to see how well your recovery went.”

“I doubt you would have found the time. Besides it was nice to be back on Victonis, despite the circumstances.” Arguis motioned with is new hand, jaw set in mild irritation at the delayed response. “A lovely world, though I know that many think it’s too moist. Almost as much water coverage as your home world actually.”

“I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Aside from the chirality it’s remarkably similar. Though I think our moon is more pleasing to look at. The dust of metallic compounds on the surface always impressed me as boy.”

White looked away, off into the void. Trying to picture the image being described to her. “I suppose I would have to have seen it myself. Regardless, I’m glad your recuperation could be in such a restful environment for you.”

Arguis rested his prosthetic hand onto the metal railing, his gaze also adrift among the Serpant nebula and the lone star nearby. “I might be overselling it a tad. In truth I spent most of my time in and out of physical therapy reading in my room. This is the first time I’ve had any real military role since Tuchanka. Even if merely a ceremonial one.”

“I’m sorry for that.” White meet Arguis’ gaze a moment later, the confusion clear in his eyes. She continued, choosing her words carefully as she clarified what she meant, “We should have had a better countermeasure for the Krogan’s defenses. That was our role after all. Our performance was… deficient.”

“You speak like you could predict every eventuality, ever tactic our enemy could take. I don’t know if that come from pride and arrogance,” Arguis said, pausing to finish of his brandy and set the small glass to the side on an upraised table. “But it’s unbecoming of a leader. You can’t obsess over past decisions, not if you spend all your time second guessing victory in search of perfection.”

The question of whether it counted as a victory she did not speak. Her misgivings felt wrong and shameful, here and now more than ever.

“You can say as such, but I still feel like I could have done better.”

“Well, as one of your writers said ‘to err is human’.”

She could have cut the silence that followed with her blade. It took long for those words to fully register, for White to even begin an attempt to respond. Her voice uncharacteristically abandoned her the first time she opened her lips to speak.

When at last she spoke it was just above a whisper.

“How… where did you hear that?”

“I told you, I had little to do but read for the last several months. And with my security clearance it was easy to request access to larger unpublished parts of your civilization’s archives. Your literature and history as it were.”

“But,” White said shaking her head, “we are not human. Why would you-“

“Are you?” Arguis gave no notice to interrupting her, his gaze focused and intense. “Whatever you are, do not do the disservice to your dead by implying that their sacrifice was a mere emulation of bravery. Those that died on Tuchanka, in the skies above Victonis… on every scorched battlefield from which we face the Krogan, they do not die as mere machines. Whatever you are you fight and die as comrades and I will accept no less.”

A grating sound came from Arguis’ left hand, the joints locked tight and unresponsive around the railing. He reached down to free it. But White got there first, pulling the crude metal digits back with his aid.

“Thank you. I fear I’m not quite used to this thing.” He looked down at his false hand, still held in White’s own. “I did more than read about dead poets from Earth. Something about your people reminded me of an old story.”

“Really?” White was sure to be relieved or anxious at the change of topic. Though most anything would be preferred to what Arguis had been speaking of moments before. “I find that hard to belive.”

“Well, it’s a distant sort of connection. If you want to hear an old Turian with a taste of brandy on his throat talk too long.” As White did not state a preference, Arguis eventually continued, his words now trying to recreate the memory of the text he’d read. “Once, long ago, before we mastered flight and when the best weapon a soldier could ask for was a sharpened spear a great, yet woefully arrogant general came to be under siege. He’d chosen a mountain fortress, called Polebia, unassailable by any one army.”

“Of course, this was where his arrogance came in. For in his pride he’d made far more enemies than allies and five-fold the number of his own soldiers lay outside the walls. They waited weeks, rations running low as siege engines were built outside. But their defeat was inevitable.”

White found this image easier to picture than a more radiant moons over alien skies. Such position was untenable, but far from foreign to her own experiences in the long years of the Machine Wars.

“However, the night before the battle a…” Arguis stopped. Looking off to the side before turning back to White. “I’m not sure how well this would translate actually. The words terribly archaic. A rough translation to modern dialects would be something like ‘They who are without shadows’.”

“Wait,” White said, now quite confused as to the direction of the Turian’s story. “You mean a spirit? A demon?”

Arguis thought over the words, or at least how they were translated. “Those would work, yes. He was visited by a demon, a thing of shadow itself set with two glowing embers where there should have been eyes. And the creature offered him a bargain. If he and his men swore to fight with all that they had, the sun would not set on their defeat.”

“And he took that deal?”

“Of course, he did. No Turian would expect anything less from his soldiers. As far as he was concerned it was no cost to ask at all. So that day the sun rose and the armies of their enemies broke through the walls. Slaughtering them to the last man and woman.”

She felt she understood now. “They were tricked then.”

“Oh, far from it. The general got exactly what he had been promised. Before the sun set they had all died. Their defeat not yet past.” Arguis paused, likely for dramatic effect. “And then they awoke, wounds healed but the pain of each death remembered that very dawn. The battle not yet fought. Only to live through it again. To die again.”

White didn’t speak, now beginning to comprehend why Arguis might have felt this story noteworthy to retell.

“Over and over, the same day repeated. Until the battles began to bleed into one another. The unending war overtaking everything else, more of their lives now made of this one calamitous defeat than every joy and sorrow that had come before. They forgot why they had fought, their tribes and families. Their very names even. All of that hammered away in this one endless torment.”

“They ceased to be Turians,” Arguis said after moment, gesturing with his left hand for effect. “Instead they became something else. Their blood turned to bronze and their flesh became hardened clay. Yet through fought on, as the war became all that they were.”

“And when the sun at last set on Polebia it had become a city of the dead. A legion of Turian laid low, their killers nothing more than unmoving statues, standing watch as carrion eaters came to feast.”

After he finished the silence lingered, growing uncomfortable. White found it too easy to imagine the nightmarish fate described to her.

“Did that really happen?” she asked at last.

Arguis was taken aback by the question, staring blankly in return. “You mean a story about bargains with demons? That then led to the deaths of whole armies in pointless, unwinnable battles? Of course not. It’s just a story. An old one, dating back from the time when the Valluvian Priests still recited it from the scrolls. It must have been written… at least three or four thousand years ago.”

White relaxed, a weight she hadn’t noticed before having lifted. The story had been peculiar of course, but any similarities must have been mere coincidence.

“But I do think even fiction like that, old myths they might be, have something to teach us. A moral.”

“Don’t make deals with demons?”

“Heh… well, I suppose that’s one.” Arguis looked over to his still empty glass, throat dry after speaking for so long.

“Here, allow me to help. Pod 331, could you retrieve more of the same beverage?”

*Request Confirmed: Support Pod 331 will return shortly.*

“Thank you. I’m afraid I might be wordier than I expected to be,” Arguis trailed off, recalling what he’d been about to say a moment before. “But what I really meant about that story was that I think it’s more about what can be lost in war. Beyond just one’s life. More than that. If the war itself becomes all they live for and not the victory that is sought. You see why I think it’s important?”

“Yes… yes I do.”

“Your people fought in wars that lasted longer than most of the civilizations that are here today. I’m honestly surprised you’ve adapted so well to lives outside of that conflict. If only the Krogan had been so adept.”

Before White could respond Pod 331 floated up, the now refilled glass held in halo of light. Arguis took it with a slight nod and after a long drink turned back towards her.

“Have you given any thought to our own proposals for one this conflict ends.”

This was more what she had expected to discuss with Arguis. Not strangely familiar myths or the nature of Android life. But politics and their place in the future of the galaxy at large.

“Yes. It’s not my decision alone, but I can assure you that the proposal for client-ship will be rejected.”

“A pity, but hardly surprising. I figured that you wouldn’t give up your independence no matter what we bargained with. There’s going to be a lot of disappointment on Pavalen. Your society is rather different than the Volus after all. And even then I’m still surprised they’re pushing forward so quickly.”

“The Krogan Rebellions might have frightened them. They don’t appear to have enough military strength to resist something like that without calling in aid. And their financial clout will do them little good if an enemy fleet takes the skies of their home world.”

“Indeed. Well that wasn’t the only offer.” Arguis set his drink aside once more, continuing to say, “It’s not as popular, but there’s some support to… share whatever political position we get from the Assari and Salarians once this is finished.”

White almost laughed at that. “I think unpopular is probably an understatement. Even then our military contribution against the Krogan might be invaluable, but in raw numbers it is still a fraction of what you’ve provided.”

“I think you underestimate how thankful those Turians that have served alongside your forces might actually be.”

“And I doubt the rest of the galaxy will be quite as understanding if you try and force them to acknowledge us as a military with galaxy wide jurisdiction or even a shared seat on the council.” White shook her head as she spoke, “Especially once our true nature is fully known.”

Arguis looked as if he wanted to argue the point some more, but managed to swallow his stubbornness over this point. Along with some more brandy. “You… might be right about that. I don’t think it’s fair, but there could be issues if you pushed for something like that so soon after arriving out here. Made all the worse when they find out about your… guests back on Earth.”

“The Rachni do complicate matters a bit.” White had long accepted that allowing them to live seemed the best choice now. But it did change their current situation. She wasn’t going to enjoy the problems when that came to light at last.

“Still, there were other ideas brought up. A mutual defense treaty perhaps, or some sort of combined fleet training program.”

“Now those are probably going to be accepted Arguis. The details will have to wait for the final defeat of the Krogan, but I doubt there will be any problem with either of those plans.”

“Yes… the Krogan,” Arguis said, looking once more into the nebula. His once more empty glass in his hand. “I don’t envy you White.”

“Envy what? I don’t understand?”

“Your lifespan. I’ll probably live thirty more years,” Arguis motioned at his own chest as he spoke, now facing White once again. The light of Widow catching on the empty glass and shining upon White’s eyes for a moment. “Maybe forty if I’m lucky. Long enough to see the Krogan broken. Their military anyway. But will they change because of what they’ve done to them?”

“Won’t they have to? That seems to be the plan.” White said, unsure of her words now. Simply repeating the assurances from the Salarian scientists.

“Yes, the ‘plan’,” Arguis said, making an attempt to form figure quotes with his prosthetic hand as he spoke. “I’m sure they had wonderful plans for how the Krogan would react to being uplifted in the first place. I don’t think we should put much trust in their plans.”

“What do you think will happen then?”

“You can’t force someone to change.” Arguis stepped back from the railing, his step a little off from before. But still sure enough. “Not really. The Krogan won’t see the Genophage as a reason to change their civilization, but just another challenge to overcome. They’ll throw themselves at it I think… till they break through and come for our heads. Or perhaps centuries later you get to witness the last Krogan dying, cursing our names.”

“You’re quite the optimist aren’t you,” White said, somewhat annoyed that their conversation had returned to the Krogan of all things. The one topic she most wanted to not think about right now.

“Only when I drink too much. Speaking of which I should probably eat something instead of drinking my meal this evening. It was a pleasure seeing you again White.”

“And you as well Arguis.”

***

*Proposal: It is traditional to imbibe these kinds of beverages at celebratory events such as this. Based on superficial scans and the chemical data supplied from extranet research none of those offered would be dangerous to an Android’s internal systems.*

“Thank you Pod 331,” White said, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice. The Pod system didn’t particularly care, and she had grown tired of its increasingly common suggestions ever since her talk with Arguis had finished. “If I prefer not to act in a ‘traditional manner for this type of social gathering’ that’s my business.”

White’s continued perusal of the bar’s selection came to an abrupt end a moment later. The chair beside her filled with a new body, the outline somewhat indistinct in her peripheral vision. An Asari, she could tell that much even in the low light by the bar. That and how they were looking at her.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Sorry,” she said, looking away from White as she turned towards her. “I was just curious. Kaerthia told me about how she embarrassed herself in front of one of you and I’ve been trying to figure out which one.”

“She must be talking about the Asari from earlier.” Evidently Kaerthia must have been more troubled than she’d thought. “She has nothing to worry about. It’s silly to think we would be insulted by something like that.”

*Proposal: Admiral White should request information regarding the drink selection. Based on historical records that is an appropriate next topic of discussion.*

“Especially when we have all sorts of different kinds of AIs in our society.” White said, not turning to look at the Pod still floating nearby, “Pod 331, I haven’t had any errors with my translation software and doubt that will become an issue any time soon. Consider yourself relieved for the remainder of the evening. I’m sure you can find someone else to discuss trends in social norms with.”

As Pod 331 floated away, only a brief statement of ‘Acknowledged’ before leaving, the Asari seated beside her smiled. “I don’t know what Kaerthia was talking about. You’re not scary at all. Kinda funny actually.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

“It’s a good thing I assure you. Plenty of talk ever since some of those rumors were confirmed. Probably to try and get a head of the real crazy ones.” She paused, eyes widening for a moment. “Oh, I’m being such a… I’m Saesna Orlisa. A secretary here at the embassy. Sorry, I’m just surprised that I got to talk to one of you alone instead of fighting through the crowd just to get a word in.”

“White, admiralty representative for YoRHa and Systems Alliance.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t- I’m not used to telling your rank from your uniform.” Saesna looked around for a moment before saying, “I wasn’t actually supposed to have this assignment, but I begged my superior so I wouldn’t be stuck going over reports all evening. Luckily the girl I’m replacing had some bad seafood so there was an opening.”

“You’re lucky we even have something this obvious. Used to be most in-action command structure was just layered into active display systems and our FOF detection. A uniforms more for appearances sake then use.”

White wasn’t sure what a giddy Asari looked like, or if Saesna might have already sampled too much of the bar’s offerings. Either way the alien woman looked fascinated by her short explanation.

“That is so neat!” Realizing too late how she sounded, she quickly said, “Sorry. Again. I’m just- I just never thought I’d get the chance to meet a synthetic lifeform before.”

“You’ll have plenty of chances for that. I rather doubt that Androids won’t visit the Citadel again. A pity that this one will be so short though. The size of it all… it’s a lot to take in.”

“Oh! Right, Kaerthia was talking about that with you… if you want a real tour of the upper wards and the Presidium you should probably let a local help you out with that.”

“Aren’t you going to be needed at your job?”

“Well technically diplomatic outreach is par of that,” Seasna said. Then flashing a more mischievous smile, “And whose to say if I didn’t suddenly come down with that food illness too. Say, sometime tomorrow an hour after the night cycle ends?”

White hesitated. She did technically have a fair amount of unassigned time over the next few days. And it would be interesting to actually see parts of alien society that weren’t made up of soldiers for a change.

“I think I can arrange that.”

***

Codex

Polebia

The fabled cursed city dating back from ancient Turian history, there have been many rumored findings of it. Most later shown to be hoaxes, with one particular attempt even being made on Turian colony by proponents of an ‘ancient astronaut’ theory. The most likely location would be in precarious mountain range in the northern hemisphere of Pavalen.

Even then, no signs of the so-called ‘burnished corpses’ were found among the ruins. Still, the story has come to have some staying power. Several films and novels have been made adapting it, including a particularly noteworthy attempt featuring Android actors and placing it at fictitious point in human history.

It was also included in one of the expansions for ‘Galaxy of Fantasy’ as a larger raid style encounter against legions of the undead Turians guarding it.

Chapter Text

What then became of the Machine Lifeforms?

At the time of the last machine war, their numbers accounted for at least 75% of the intelligent life on the planet, perhaps even greater depending on how many of their units one is willing to attribute true sapience too. Entire ‘nations’ had arisen and combatted Android factions almost independent of oversight from the primary Machine Lifeform Network. Yet following the Network, or at least the ruling ‘meta-consciousness’ referred to as N2’s decision to leave the Earth, those same beings have all but vanished. The majority apparently annihilated in a self-imposed genocide of disconnected systems that the surviving Androids from that time were fortunate enough to avoid.

We can only guess as to the motives behind that behavior, as even the recovered data from the Network’s physical form contains no information on its thoughts and reasoning.

Excerpt from Aran Vokall’s A Brief History of Earth Volume V.

*****

March 13th, 12160, Heimdall Station

“That’s odd.”

Fingers moved swiftly across the control console, minimizing the scans and data from dozens of inner and outer system sensors. Instead focusing entirely on terrestrial data. The globe of the Earth filling the screen, expanding and then flattening outward as the Pacific region came into focus alone.

First a symbolic representation showing nation state regions, or at least those few which made up the pan-Australian rim up to the various unrestored portions of central Asia. Then a satellite image, cloud cover obscuring some of the lights from those rebuilt civilization centers and industries that remained Earthbound. And finally, thermal scans…

Which was where the true surprise came at last.

A hot spot had formed in the ocean, dozens of kilometers across. Not just hot, very nearly boiling.

“Is it a subsurface volcano?”

Violet turned, a brief sense of vertigo as the multiple layers of diagnostic images and maps fell away and she saw the room about her. And the focused attention of Admiral Hake. The older android was commonly sighted on the command deck, but she’d never spoken to him personally.

“N-no sir. The first thing I did was check against fault lines and seismic readings. The nearest volcanic activity is by the remains of the Hawaiian Islands over 500 kilometers away. This is in the middle of the Pacific plate and not located near any known hotspots.”

Hake gestured towards the central screen, dismissing the prior display and maximizing the scans on Violet’s terminal.

“Do we have any lost fleets in that area? Maybe a fusion reactor that never turned off after being sunk?”

“No… and even the largest super-carriers we used during the war wouldn’t have resulted in something of this scale.”

His frown only deepened as he walked past other androids now focusing their attention on this issue as well. A flurry of possible reasons were soon tossed about, but each time they failed to explain what they were seeing. But neither sensor errors or geological phenomenon served to explain the sight before them. Even the cloud cover over that region was now showing disturbances as the amount of evaporating water grew ever greater.

“What if it’s-“

The next idea was cut off as fully half the screens suddenly blinked off as their signals died. The command deck itself bathed in darkness for a moment before red warning lights began to flash. The reason evident on the still working live-view of the Earth itself, as lights winked out around the edges of the image. Entire cities suddenly going dark.

“How in the… get another scan on that region now! Call in a patrol ship if you have to, we need to know what just caused that EMP,” Hake said, shouting over the sound of the alarm. Turning as he noticed that one of the nearest androids was still just staring at their console. “We don’t have time to panic over this. Even at distances involved there are going to be injured and we need to find out what caused that in the first place.”

“It wasn’t just one sir.”

“What?”

“There… there are reports of several… signal interruptions all across the globe. There’s at least dozen incidents throughout the Pacific, North and South Atlantic, Siberian… almost every region is requesting immediate aid and asking for further orders?”

Only the sound of the alarms filled the command deck for a long, lingering moment. Till Hake turned towards the assembled androids, far too many of which had never even seen an emergency like this.

“Fall back to the nearest secured area and await instructions from local officers or public security. The boots on the ground will have to figure out how to get the injured out of the possible hot zones. And send out a priority distress to all out-of-system ships.”

After a moment adding, “And someone get that damn alarm to turn off!”

*****

Attu Island, the Krogan Prison Camp.

He knew something was off the moment the lights died.

At first he’d feared that some idiot had managed to knock out the generator in another ill-thought plan of escape. Forgetting for the moment that they were on an island surrounded by near freezing waters and that Krogan were only marginally better swimmers than the Androids. But while there had been more talk of escapes, particularly since rumors about their possible release had begun to spread through the camp, Drack could be fairly certain that this wasn’t the action of his fellow prisoners.

Especially given that there were no signs of the Androids themselves yet.

“Something’s wrong… the speakers have an emergency power system and the warden should have come on by now.” Drack didn’t find her as easy to get along with as some of their captors, but she’d never taken this long to respond to anything.

And then there was the issue of the door between the living compound and the outside.

When he looked at it, he had thought someone might have forced open the gate, but as he got closer it looked like the electronic lock had simply failed for some reason. Opening the main building where the Krogan were housed out into the internal walled area. And by the sounds he was hearing the security failure went further than that.

“This isn’t good…”

It wasn’t that Drack particularly wanted to stay cooped up in a prison camp, but he knew damn well by this point that no Krogan was hacking an Android system with whatever contraband they might cobble together under their bunk. Forcing the door open was one thing, but causing an entire security failure…

That had to come from someone else.

And there were only so many options. And while he knew that they’d selected, and then monitored, the guards to make sure there weren’t any ‘radical traditionalists’ among them, there was always the possibility that some of those Androids had decided to deal with the Krogan problem on Earth.

Personally if need be.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and took off at a fast jog, running towards the gates closer to the inner wall where transport ships could land or take off. A crowd of Krogan already assembled nearby and trying to either force the doors open or climb over the fence. For all the good it would do.

“If they can ID-lock their guns, hell, their swords even, how do you expect to fly a ship without permission?” And that was assuming whatever had knocked out the security hadn’t also fried something in those as well.

His worst fears seemed to be confirmed as a near silent craft hovering above them was revealed, a spotlight shining down onto the gate. Drack stopping his run and hunkering down behind a nearby wall. Not wanting to approach what now looked to be the kill-zone for a stealth gunship.

Though he couldn’t have predicted what would come next.

A long metallic cable lowered down from the hovering ship, on which bulky humanoid figure clung to at the end of some kind of tied bar. Though they were neither Krogan or Android.

Something else entirely, which he had never seen before. A metallic body, capped by a domed head with two glowing eyes. A strange heraldic symbol seemed etched onto the chassis about where the ‘chest’ would be.

“Attention aliens and androids! Your base has been found in violation of the territory of the Neo-Yukon Confederacy. In addition to being our prisoners now we suspect that members of the force known as YoRHa serve here, and we will now be sending specialized drones to deal with them.” The voice came out with a hard, metallic tone. Not the perfect emulation of organic speech he’d grown used to hearing from the synthetic life around him. Though extreme volume of it likely added to the harshness. “Resist at your own risk, as we will spare no mercy to those that-“

The sound of a rifle ripped through the night’s air and silenced the machine. Their chest imploded about the point of impact and streaks of heated metal shown in the air as flecks of semi-solid steel rain. The body tumbled from the line and hit the ground with a heavy thump.

Several more shots went wild, up and towards the still barely visible ship as it turned and the spotlight fell on the figure below. The prison warden stood near the upper deck of the landing pad, braced against a support rail and aiming heavy rifle upwards with one arm. Another discharge and the light went out, bathing the compound in darkness once more.

For a moment, as she set the gun down and pulled out satchel of flares, setting one off with a soft crack sound and tossing it down the stairs towards the gate. As Drack approached the crowd of Krogan, some of which were inspecting the fallen machine body while others looked at the warden, he saw that she couldn’t be the best of states herself. Limping down the stairs, and having to grab onto the railing to keep from falling every other step she took.

“We’re attempting to reboot the systems on the local transports. If we can get all three working again and dump whatever cargo hasn’t been unloaded it should fit all of you, if a little tight.”

After a moment of silence, a voice called out from the back, “Why should we do that?”

“Well,” she said, taken her sidearm out and aiming it at the electric lock on the gate. The nearest Krogan stepped back as she fired three shots into the mechanism and then kicked it open. Very nearly tumbling onto her back as she did so. “First, as bad as I look right now, the flight system is even worse and none of you would be able to fix it in time. And second-“

Harsh metal on metal sounds came from the outer wall, as if something was now trying, and likely succeeding, in climbing over it.

“You already know we won’t kill you. You’ll find no such assurance from the machines.”

Before anyone else could respond to that, whatever had been on the other side of the wall reached the top. It leaped from the top, landing crouched and rising slowly, jerkily, to stand. With mangy torn skin over their metallic skeleton and rotten cloth, one could see where some measure of improvised maintenance had been done to bring the creation into a semblance of life. But from the dead eyed stare to its distorted, monotone voice, there was nothing within the shell now.

“Alien beings, species categorized as Krogan: Irrelevant. Android, YoRHa, priority target 21O: Terminate and/or retrieve.”

“It can’t be…” the warden said, her voice low as she stumbled forward, barely paying attention to the Krogan which were now drawing back from the armed, and unsettling, looking android that had climbed over the side of the prison wall. “A first-generation YoRHa? But they were…”

Before she could say more the resurrected, or perhaps more properly stated to be re-animated, android ran towards her. A spear pulled from their back and aimed several centimeters down and to the right of their chest. To sever the main power conduit from her fuel systems and either kill or disable her frame permanently. She raised her weapon, but between the lingering damage from before and her own shock at the strange nightmare that had materialized before her she’d never take aim in time.

Miraculously she didn’t have to.

The lumbering bulk of a Krogan collided with the drone before they could close half the distance. Thrown off balance the skidded to a stop almost ten meters away, once more jerkily coming to ready stance with quick, if somewhat off, motions of their body.

Drack looked from the confused android back the even more confused Krogan. Not a one, including himself to be honest, could believe he’d just done that.

“Well, what the hell are you idiots waiting for? Those transports won’t unload themselves.”

Any complaint that might be raised died on the lips of Krogan who would speak it, as the disheveled drone sprinted forward, their weapon now aimed for the center of mass of the Krogan that had stopped them moments ago.

Drack didn’t dodge. Not entirely.

He could already tell that he’d never move fast enough, never hope to move fast enough, to slid entirely out of the way. But twisting to the side the spear point would pass through flesh and muscle, grazing ribs and protruding to his left without severing one heart from the other. He let the blow come, teeth grit and the shock briefly forcing his eyes closed. But where his eyes would fail him, the pain would not. Before they could pull back, to the side, or do anything at all, he grabbed onto the spear point and wrenched it up. With his own mass, the momentum of the incoming blow, and now even gravity working with him instead of against him, the drone spun through the air and landed in a heap, disarmed, behind him.

“Damn that hurt,” Drack said, growling as he pulled the spear free and turned his gaze onto his opponent. The sound of 210’s weapon firing at something else which had climbed over the wall. “Fine, I don’t need any help…”

And as the mindless drone attacked, he truly felt as if his confidence wasn’t unearned. It moved as fast as an android, or perhaps even faster than 2B did when she had practiced with him. But there was a lack of fluidity, of thought, in those motions. That second spear charge had been identical, perfectly so, to the first one. And the way it moved now copied the motions 2B had made when she first practiced with him, before she’d even really tried to fight in earnest, only like puppeted and damaged doll. It could strike fast enough to make his ears ring and his head pound, but before it could get the leverage to try and twist his head open he found his own grip. His lungs burned from the effort, but he had more mass and the drone didn’t seem to realize the precarious position it was in.

Right up into he let his body fall back, one leg kicking out to make the drone fall as well, and he now quite thoroughly and permanently disarmed his attacker completely. Before the now one-armed drone could right itself it fell back. A hole blasted through the metallic skull as it collapsed into a still twitching heap.

Drack rose to find most of the Krogan’s still watching. Grimaced, both in pain from his new battle scars and annoyance at the idiots around him, and grabbed the discarded spear from the ground.

“What are you waiting for? Or are you a bunch of quadless whelps that need me to do everything for you!”

He turned and met the next attacker, already wounded from the warden’s gunfire. They tripped, their own ill-maintained bodies not able to stay standing with another hole perforating them, and before they could rise he planted one heavy foot onto the back of their head. The spear piercing into the center of the chest and then forced from side to side until he felt the jerky motion cease.

Thankfully the Krogan started doing what he said after that.

*****

“I… you’re the New China Republic? And you’re claiming ownership of… what? But…” Violet looked up from her terminal, hoping that someone, anyone, had an idea how to respond to these incoming messages. The dozens, if not hundreds, of bizarre and sometimes conflicting demands from various machines claiming to represent allied forces under the ‘New Network.’

Hake had so far refused to respond to more than a few of them, angered enough by the first ridiculous demand for “the return of Greenland and the adjacent continent to our Queen’s rule”, but that had only been the start of it.

Instead he now looked at the image of the Pacific Ocean anomaly. Which had revealed itself at last.

“Damn it… I thought we destroyed that network server entirely.”

Once mere a floating city, though the rebuilt Machine Atlantis had achieved a size more akin to a metallic island than anything else. Nearly four and half kilometers across it had arisen from the sea at last. The very weather system distorted from the steam boiling off of the titanic reactors which had powered its ascension from the ocean floor.

“Still nothing from them?”

“No sir. No communications at all from the primary machine network.”

Hake had firmly stated he wouldn’t negotiate with any of the allied forces and, once it had been secured from other systems, been trying to open a line of communication with the main machine force. With no luck.

“Damn it.” It was starting to look like he might be forced to retaliate with a fleet strike despite the issues of even finding the central mass of machine forces. “If that would even work. They probably have some counter measures to anything less than a prolonged bombardment. And I doubt Australia would like me sinking their coastline as a side effect.”

Thankfully he found some help at last as Admiral White entered the command deck at that point. Flanked by more operators and technicians.

“Have there been any communications from the machines or the regions that went dark during the initial attack?”

Hake shook his head as he walked beside her towards the center display. “No, and that hampers our ability to strike back. Thankfully the worst of it didn’t touch any major cities, but a number of outlaying areas will have injured who we’d have a hard-enough time finding without all the added security measures from active machine networks. Even if they are able to call out for assistance most of those channels won’t respond.”

“Could the machines be using them as hostages? To prevent us from indiscriminate bombardment of those regions?”

“But why just that? They had the first strike and could just have easily taken over a major city instead of just forcing us back from older regions we haven’t even managed to fully rebuild.”

White looked at the display, her lips pressed together into a tight frown. “This doesn’t make any sense. They have to realize we’d cut our loses for civilian personal at some point and they can’t possibly hold onto these territories with what we now have in orbit.”

“Maybe they think that cloistering around Old World cities will keep us from using mass drivers and the newer laser systems?”

“No, they aren’t stupid… they’d have realized that the Traditionalist Faction doesn’t have enough sway over the military to bind our hands like that anymore. The environmental impact of turning half of Asia into a rolling firestorm is more likely to stop us at this point than the damage to whatever kilometer deep industrial area they dug into and hid for the last two hundred years.”

Hake turned from the display back to the operator working with communications to public security. They’d been able to open a secured channel at least, but from her expression it was clear that mounting rescue and retrieval into the now contested territory was still out of the question for the moment.

“Damn it all. Anyone caught out in the open and unshielded will need some kind of intervention. Otherwise they’ll just be so much scrap rusting in the field.”

*****

Northern Siberian, Sakha Gas Line (Rebuilt)

Kate wasn’t quite sure what happened.

One moment she’d been checking the dial on the fuel line, making sure the digital readout back at the main station matched the one on the pipe itself. The next she was lying on the snow-covered ground, unable to move, and with a very unpleasant looking visual distortion in her left field of vision. After a long, long moment of effort which ended in her wincing in pain (which at least meant she could still move some muscles, if not the ones she’d like) she managed to force that eye shut.

“Yep. Still there. The connection must have fried too.”

So…

Was she just struck by lightning?

Had the pipe been struck by lightning?

And how long had she been lying in the snow?

“Well, I’m not covered in it… so probably not that long?” She wished she could just look at her internal clock, but that was just blinking ’24:00 00 00/00/00’ over and over so clearly that circuit was also ruined. And either her local area network connection had gone off too…

Or there wasn’t one.

“Guess I’ll just wait till someone comes and picks me out of the ice.” As the seconds turned into minutes and nothing changed, save for the odd snowflake that she was thankfully able to blink and push off of her still working eye, the sheer tedium of it all started to weigh her down. “And I had a date tonight with that guy measuring whale populations. Guess this is a great way to spend your evening instead…”

Though her idle sarcastic thoughts didn’t manage to continue down that line for too much longer. As she still had a decent view of the pipeline and could, without turning her head (which didn’t seem to want to do that at the moment) see a pair of-

“Oh. Well that’s just perfect.”

The machines were painted a snowy white color, with hints of blue, and carried a flag she didn’t recognize. As they were about to pass one of them looked down at her limp form and stopped.

“Android, this pipeline is within the sovereign territory of the New Czar! Please leave at your earliest opportunity.”

And then they were off again.

Kate could think of a few things she’d like to say in response (mostly rather rude) and some gestures (even ruder) but really, what else was there to do?

Not like she could actually move more than her…

Left hand?

“That’s not good.” Motor responses were getting harder. Which meant that there might be a higher order control system which wasn’t just damaged but actually degrading. Best case scenario she just lost kinesthetic controls. Though it could go as far as leading to the loss of audio/visual systems too.

Worst case…

Her fuel filter would eventually back up as the automatic systems failed and there’d either be a full cognitive shutdown or a short.

So death or death without the possibility of reboot.

She’d just started to really worry (she was not panicking; she was a hundred and twelve and was not about to have damn panic attack just because machine lifeforms were apparently a thing again she was paralyzed in the frozen tundra with no way to call for help or-)

And now of course some animal was sniffing her head.

“I swear, if some moose tries to eat my hair too that will just be the..”

You are distressed?

What?

She hadn’t thought that. That had been…

Like a not-sound registered after the point her auditory systems worked. Which meant that wasn’t a moose sniffing her head.

The Rachni’s upper arms pulled her out of the snowbank and rolling her onto her side. She’d have been offended at the treatment, but frankly she wasn’t in any condition to complain about an alien bug-thing pulling her jacket loose enough to access diagnostic ports. At least she could feel the slight pinch of the incision, though there must have been some underlying nerve damage because there was no way that-

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

REBOOTING…

-can you hear our voices?

Kate blinked, surprised that not only were both her eyes working, though the left one seemed bit out of focus, and that her internal diagnostic screens were online again. They mostly looked good, though the patch job on her power systems would probably need some replacements and the staunching gel had only began to set on where her back had been cut open to get to her internal systems.

Which brought up a lot of questions?

Android-friend, are our voices heard?

“Yes, yes. I can hear you,” Kate said, trying to stand. And then only managing it as the Rachni helped her to her feet. “Do you have a working pod system or something? I need to report in what I just saw.”

We do not. But we have already sung of these new sights to one and many.

“Well, where’s the nearest working terminal then?” she asked, not really paying that much attention to what the Rachni said. She’d always found their ‘voices’ kind of weird and unsettling.

That will not be necessary. We must shepherd you as we have the others.

“What do you mean… the others?”

You are the 23,702 Android-friend we have found since the discordance.

“What?”

*****

“They’re doing what?”

“Ah… swarming I guess?” Violet said, feeling rather concerned by the attention on her from both admirals as she gave the latest report. “Apparently after they fixed the power and comms at the preserve the Rachni pretty much just… took off? As in very nearly all of them. On foot or with any vessel they could find and repair. They seem to be specifically heading into areas we’ve lost contact with.”

White closed her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. The last thing they needed was for some of their alien ‘guests’ to get caught in the crossfire of whatever happened.

“Since when do they know enough about our machines to repair them like that?”

She turned to Hake, only to pause. She didn’t know the answer to that either.

“Admiral. I mean Admirals,” shouted another operator from their terminal. “We’re getting signals from the Charon Relay.”

“Finally, at least the patrol fleet made it back before things got worse on the ground.” They’d been spread rather thin since they started taken part in the military actions against the Krogan. And even with the war starting to cool down they still had the majority of their fleet assets out of system at the moment. “But even those along the main relay lines will be more than sufficient.”

“Admiral White?” came the same operator, distracting her from her thoughts as they looked up from their terminal. “There’s a lot more signals than we expected?”

She turned towards the central display where incoming vessels near Pluto were shown. Where the FTL laser comms were now showing the registration codes for not only the four patrol ships that had been closest…

But another twelve.

“Admiral… a Turian High Commander Maxina Arterius is requesting to act in accordance to our defense treaty?”

At her nod a full communications channel was opened, and soon the visual and audio signal for the command ship of the Turian force came onscreen. A female Turian, perhaps a little past middle-aged for their species, with light-blue paint on their greyish exoskeleton. She stood up a bit straighter as she recognized who was on the other end of the channel.

“Admiral White, I wish to say first that it is an honor and a privilege to take part in a military action to defend your home world.”

White spared a glance to Hake who simply stepped to the side, leaving her to deal with the ‘reputation’ she’d gained with Turians as of late.

“And it is mine to have your aid. I must say I didn’t expect you to send so much or so quickly to our assistance.”

Maxina looked perplexed for a moment, the ridges above her eyes narrowing. “I apologize Admiral, but I must correct you. We are merely the closest flotilla to Earth. The Seventh Fleet is on route and will arrive shortly.”

“The… entire fleet?”

“Not all of it sadly,” the Turian commander replied, “but Admiral Ostium insisted that the nearest possible flotilla be sent at once to assess the situation while he musters the main forces. They should be no more than 12 hours behind us.”

Chapter Text

Alright I don't know when or even if this will get out, but it looks like my efforts for some up close and personal research on the galaxy's newest and biggest mystery has had more than a little success.

Frankly I feel like a threw a net in the water and pulled out a whole swarm of blue-tips. Of course, it cost me my recordings from the prior day of tours, and the story that merc they had acting as security but you can't always plan to beat the dealer at quaser.

Okay, first off we lose power. Across the whole city. And apparently it was some kind of electromagnetic attack because every Android or "Synthetic Human" or whatever they are I met was complaining of a headache or looked like they were about ready to flop over like a maiden after her first taste of liquor.

Then Public Security, the local police force here, comes in and starts performing "logic circuit" checks and all sorts of other synth-health things. While I get told to stay in my room at the hotel until they know what's going on.

Not that I'm complaining, I still had a bottle of that desert wine I got on the tour when we got back from the oasis but-

Anyway, here I am wasting my night away when I swear I see something out of an old military archive recording walking down the street.

I stop drinking obviously.

And Goddess protect me I wasn't that far into the bottle, and even then I'm deathly sober now.

Rachni. There are Rachni on Earth.

And they work with the Androids.

I don't know if their allies or pets or… which is even worse at that point?

But they're here, apparently helping repair things or at least shuttling the injured in for care given what I might have been able to spy from my room.

Once again, thanks to grandma for this old analog binocs. No pictures sadly what with my omnitool still being shot, but they were Rachni.

And then do you know what came down just an hour ago? A damn Turian army, tanks and all. Putting up a defensive line between the spaceport and the outlying regions alongside the Androids. All while those Rachni keep showing up here and there…

Goddess.

I mean, let's think this through. The Androids can already outfight even the oldest and meanest Huntresses one-on-one. Hell, somethings I've heard make me think the idiot's bet would be on a Justicar. Every Salarian tech head I've talked to as said the answer to breaking into their security when they're paying attention is "Don't even bother trying." They have weird biotic powers that don't make any sense if they're actually all metal and wires on the inside.

And now we find out that the Rachni are alive and well and some kind of ally to them.

And then in less than a day of some kind of emergency on their home world the Turians are out in force.

What am I even seeing here?

Personal Recording of Cearvo T'ebrall March 14th 12160

*****

Woden, Alliance Carrier-Dreadnought, Briefing Room 22 Hours After Machine Network Resurgence

"We've sent down a full three regiments to the Pacific States, Central America, and the European areas to provide support in arms and to the ongoing efforts for repair and recovery."

"And you have them following the Aggressive Network Sec Measures correct? It's critical that we limit communication through anything but the laser comms we've put into operation after the attack."

Maxima nodded, though one could sense the frustration as she continued speaking, "Yes, but without being able to relay information through more conventional means it drastically reduces traditional Hierarchy Engagement plans. If we can't feed near instantaneous position information accurately orbital strike capability will be substantially reduced. Especially with how most of the larger enemy formations seem to have methods of obfuscating long-range sensors. And we obviously can't use VI equipped drones in this instance in any of these areas."

The mentioned regions were highlighted on the holographic display before them, symbolic details containing information on general composition of those forces and the hardware they had brought with them. More than the extra soldiers the armored support vehicles were potentially more useful. They hadn't been damaged by any EMP and, while the OS on the vehicle itself might be more primitive than what they used, it would be a foreign architecture to the machines.

With some fairly moderate precautions they could easily make it so the only way that that system was infiltrated would require a physical link or more than enough warning to the crew to take precautions and hopefully launch their own counter-hack.

Assuming that they weren't softened or shut down by EMP attacks or other anti-synthetic weapons.

"But that's yet another thing these allies offer." There was no denying that the Turians had one critical advantage against the Machine Lifeforms, and especially them when functioning with the full weight of a network behind them.

You weren't hacking their brains anytime soon. As long as security codes remained on physical copies or within an organic's brain, cracking that security would be ever so much harder. The ridiculous measures they were having to use now to make sure no one called down an orbital strike on the wrong location were similarly altered with this in mind. It undoubtedly slowed things down immeasurably, even for the Turians in truth, but without an untraceable network there wasn't much they could do about that.

"Though, even with the issues the machine lifeforms represent," the Turian said, stepping back from the holographic display as she finished, "I'm still not sure why you haven't counterattacked yet even with the assets you already had in system."

The awkward sense of dread filled the room as the command staff of YoRHa thought on how to answer that question. While they all had different opinions on what was going on, none disagreed that this most recent attack felt wrong. As if there had to be more, something else that they did not yet see or which had not yet been revealed.

"I would think that fairly obvious Commander," the Turian Admiral said, stepping forward towards the center of the room. Arguis Ostium continuing to ask, "What would you have done with a first strike opportunity on a world like this?"

"Spaceports crippled or seized at the same time that I destroyed any military force on terra firma. Secondary targets would be capturing major population centers which would serve to dissuade strategic bombing or orbital strikes. The tradeoff for engaging in urban warfare would be a necessary cost if I intended the operation to be anything more than a violent farce." Maxina paused briefly, coming back to acknowledge the person that asked the question in the first place, "I mean that's what I would have done Admiral."

"And it would no doubt be quite successful at leveraging your force's limitation to terrestrial conflicts and utter lack of ability to exert air power against overwhelming orbital control. But you must consider something else lacking in our opponents' stratagems so far."

Before Maxima could respond one of the Androids answered instead. Admiral Carmine sparing a harsh glare towards the various Machine seized regions near Android settlements. "You mean that guerrilla warfare or… terror attacks would have been more effective given the disparity in strength of our current militaries."

"To some extent I'd say they'd already done that." Though White had to admit that their argument made sense, as prior to Machine War 14 there had been a number of novel and distressingly psychological components in how the Machines fought. She'd only learned of some of the worst of it after the end of the war, but if the Machines wanted to hurt them there was no doubt that they had enough emotional awareness now to make better plans to do so.

"We're getting reports of re-activated first gen YoRHa bodies and the use of similar tactics from some of the machine forces. I'd say they're already doing that."

"But only using them as foot soldiers in the regions they claimed, which are almost entirely outside of our largest population centers? Think Hake, with the initiative they had why not send one of those re-activated units into a major city while we thought they were just regular Androids? Or have them bring a bomb with them? Hell, why not seed one of our networks with a logic virus before we shut them all down?"

"They… some portion of them at least, the Network itself perhaps, doesn't want just another war. They want-"


"They're trying to get your attention," Admiral Ostium said, unknowingly vocalizing White's thoughts. "Maybe even ours as well."

That was an alarming thought. The Machine Lifeforms had been bad enough when all they had studied was human history and behavior as part of their evolution and adaption to the Android forces during the wars. The addition of aliens would only make that all the worse. Could only possibly do so.

She could scarce imagine a situation worse than the machines emulating traditional Krogan use of nuclear arms and simply accepting the loss of most of Earth's habitable biosphere as a means of forcing the Androids off world or drastically reducing their population even below the wartime number. Of course, habitable was a matter of discussion. Save for the need for optimal temperatures and clean water, Android's preferences were almost entirely aesthetic.

The machines even more so.

Unsaid but surely known to all the Androids in the room (and likely many of the Turians too) was the fact that as long as the machines had possible delivery mechanisms or other means to distribute nuclear attacks the resulting devastation would be unprecedented. That the counterattack would come from unassailable orbital forces would be poor comfort to the millions upon millions which would be killed.

Her fist tightened, joints straining against one another as the thought of all those rebuilt cities being 'empty' once more hit her. Regardless of everything else, that would not, could not be allowed.

"This is Senior Operator Sybil. You requested immediate notification if we received anything from the primary network." A measure of hesitation evident in her tone of voice and the pause before she continued, "We have something. Originating from the main server in the Pacific and using an older laser comms standard."

All conversation in the room ceased. White finally speaking, to ask, "Have they said anything yet?"

"N-no Ma'am. They're requesting to speak with the command staff of YoRHa personally. With you personally."

She froze, every conscious and unconscious motion ceasing at once as the weight of those words hit her. That the Network, past and present, might acknowledge her personally should have been self-evident. Yet now faced with the reality of it she found terrifying. The number of living Androids to converse with any form of the united intelligence of the Machine Network numbered no more than two.

Herself not included in that number as her own memories did not include the time it had spent gloating about killing her and all under her command towards the end of the 14th war.


"Make sure their transmission is kept isolated from anything and everything else," White said before turning towards the others in the room. "And unless there's an objection I'd also like it sent to this room. I wish to speak to them, but I will not do it alone if that's what they intend."

No one stated any complaints to that plan, and as the display shifted off from the map as they all drew closer. Replaced by a set of origin coordinates and signal strength reading next to an otherwise blank display screen.

"Are we now speaking to the commander of YoRHa?"

The voice came out with a mechanical distortion, not just the limitations that seemed to often color traditional Machine Lifeforms and their efforts to speak. But something else, an almost discordant choir of many voices speaking as one but ever so slightly out of tune. It had an unsettling, perhaps disturbing, quality to it that could not help but set them all on edge. Android or Turian, it hardly mattered.

"You are speaking to them. We are all present."

"Good," replied the Network, lingering on that single word with a frightful intensity. "Though neither the presence of prior designation YoRHa Number 3 Canceller Type, now self-designated as 'Carmine' nor that of the operational commander of the 12th, 13th, and 14th Machine Wars Atlantic Theater self-designated as 'Hake' concern us at this time. We wish to speak to you prior YoRHa Commander, self-designated White. Or at least your current incarnation considering your death during the end of the war. We are pleased some version of you survived as we did."

"You'd think if they just wanted to 'talk' they would find a way to do it that didn't shut down two-thirds of your planet's power infrastructure."

He'd said it low, barely more than a whisper, as he came to stand beside White, but that seemed to be more than enough to attract the attention of the intelligence on the other side of the channel.

"Apologies, how could we forget the aliens," said the voice, lingering on that last word. Savoring the sound. "The new aliens. So much more interesting than the ones we killed. Though we suppose all organic species are aliens to us… at least you have a name. Turian. So alike what we had already studied but also different in fascinatingly subtle ways. An equitable conflict with you would have been enlightening to us both."

"Why, because you wouldn't have attacked an already devastated world and almost wipe out its inhabitants? Afraid you might have learned how it felt to be defeated for a change?"

"Far from it. The increased difficulty and the possibility that we estimate that you would persevere in the face of our aggression as long as the Androids have without their lifespans to support that investment… it is a thrilling proposition. It is to our eternal dismay that such considerations are ultimately irrelevant given the traitorous actions taken by our previous meta-consciousness and those Android conspirators. Were it not for them our absolute victory would have been assured and things would be very different now."

Before they could respond to that, the Machine Network quickly continued, "Which brings us to our reason for contacting you. The various groups of Machines on Earth are currently receiving logistical and strategic analysis and support from us but their limited concerns for geographic regions they once laid claim to are not ours. We wish to parley with the conspirators directly about what the prior Network may or may not have said to them which led to its abandonment of our forces."

"What… what are they talking about?" The expression on Carmine and Hake's faces showed that they were similarly confused by last statement by the Machine Network, the new version of it at least. "We have no proof that anyone from high command directly conspired with the Machine Network. Does this mean they did? And how would we even begin to arrange a meeting?"

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about." Hake's frustrated scowl gave evidence to more unpleasant reactions to that last response he was keeping to himself. Understandable given how the Network sounded quite distressed that they were not likely going to have the opportunity to kill Turians for a few thousand years. "We have no idea who might have survived from high command, if they even did what with the extent of the attacks during the end of the 14th War."

There was a long pause before the communication system responded once again. Long enough that they'd worried that the Network had disconnected prematurely or that somehow that last response had led to complete breakdown in their attempt at… well, diplomacy.

It hadn't, not that what followed wasn't any less surprising if it had.

"No, not them!" It came out as a shriek of steel grinding on steel. "The ones that conspired with the old Network! Which met with them time after time. Even inviting them into the central server you know as The Tower prior to abandoning us at the moment of triumph! WE WISH TO MEET YoRHa UNITS A2 AND 9S!"

Chapter Text

Damascus, 36 Hours After Machine Network Resurgence

"We'll be arriving shortly Commander."

She nodded at the pilot's statement and turned away from the flight command. Kashell was quite the pilot and she had no reason not to trust the Asari's estimate on how long it would take them to make this last jaunt through the Charon relay to the Sol system.

Besides, A2 had other matters to focus on.

Like the passenger she was shuttling to Earth.

As soon as the full extent of the troubles became known to her she changed her original plans to drop by and discuss the matter with them. It had been something like instinct that drove her, a bizarre and sudden urgent push from the depths of her code that she couldn't quite parse the source out of. Originally she'd only intended a short discussion, maybe an hour or so while she resupplied with the best they could spare from the 'so-called' mining operation ran by Cerberus Industries out at the edges of Android claimed space.

But instead things had taken a decidedly different turn, and now she found herself seated across from him.

What had once been the last machine lifeform with sentience on Earth. A conclusion she'd never truly believed, but now somewhat wished had been true.
Pascal had, despite his origins, found a measure of peace during and after the war. And while the number of androids which had had close dealings with him had never been large, they could all vouch for strange and unexpected integrity the felt from him. She hadn't born witness to it herself, but apparently there'd been a wave of relief among the rank and file when YoRHa had become aware of the increasing numbers of non-violent machine lifeforms. Hardly surprising when one realized that because of their young ages and immediate insertion into combat, most of YoRHa didn't really have a lingering grudge for the machines and thanks to the use of specialized backups they were less likely to develop them.

The fact that the seasoned vets in Anemone's camp had been just as willing to acknowledge a truce at the time only went to show how weary Android forces in general had become over the years. Nobody really wanted to keep fighting, to keep killing, as they had been. And those that did…
Well, she could speak from experience in saying that it had really just been suicide with extra steps involved.

Regardless, all of that had been for nought as the Terminals, the 'Command Structure' of the Machine Lifeforms had set about systematically exterminating most any and every independent faction of their own race during the twilight hours of the war. Given their capabilities, no longer hidden or obfuscated for the sake of keeping Android morale so as to have another force to fight, they had proven quite adept at that task. Whatever group of survivors had managed to hide out and make it through to the point they tired of the war and left Earth of their own volition, A2 could easily foresee how that had led them to remain hiding far longer than they ever had in prior conflicts.

Not that that explained why they had revealed themselves now, or in the fashion they had chosen to do so.
Pascal hadn't been able to answer that question with much more accuracy either.

"They have to have some sort of plan. They always did…" It gnawed at her, a bitter and unpleasant sensation that had her hands tightening on the railing beside her. If she wasn't careful she'd bend the steel soon.

She didn't know if they needed to, that they'd actually be able to stop it this time.

***

"Captain A2 has arrived."

White nodded to the Turian that entered then, holding a network locked tablet in her hands. Part of the procedure for 'peer adversary' in electronic warfare required all sensitive and unsecured systems to either be shutdown or run under harsh restrictions. Sadly this included very nearly the entire Turian fleet… and more of her own than she'd like to admit.

Especially given how they had no way of knowing how long the Machines might have been planning this and how far they could have infiltrated. It would take weeks to purge, reinstall, and re-secure every local server. As it was only the Recon Fleet under Admiral Carmine's authority was fully functional with little to no technical limitations at the moment. Once recalled they had reset their security parameters and ran on locked and limited communications system separate from both of the other main fleets, which had either been in system too often and for too long to be trusted or were in the process of being refit for service at this very moment.
She wished they'd gotten further along with the Martian shipyards, at least then they'd have a light delay (once they shut down the Eezo Comms anyhow) to hopefully keep the Machines out of their systems, but as it stood most of her own ships were now running on 'un-aided' targeting and using direct android manpower to ferry orders from one point to another.

Short bursts of communications could still be used, and were to some extent required, but the codes required to authorize those same transitions were having to be carried to each and every soldier or deck commander personally.

Frankly, if they'd had the supplies of paper and pens, they'd have written them down before they even relied on the tablets.
But there just wasn't time to worry about those sorts of things right now.

Thankfully the Turians had proven to be every bit as well trained as they boasted and they had taken to this new security measures quickly. To some extent so fast she was a little envious of their performance.

"We've gotten too used to peacetime operations," White mused internally. Though she supposed that was something of an odd statement. They'd been at war, or something like it, for decades now against the Krogan. But it was a matter of comparisons. For all the Krogan's considerable, and proven multiple times over, capacity to lay siege to entire worlds and render them desolate, lifeless, or literally blasted to pieces (how they'd managed that little light show the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance teams still hadn't been able to properly explain), they were not the same kind of threat as the Machine Lifeforms. A constant, never-ending fear of sudden and unexpected death that could come from anywhere at any time. Wars like that simply didn't happen between space faring civilizations, the ebb and flow of the theatre was such that, given the sheer capability of firepower both sides had and the ability to move it so quickly thanks to the relay system, no prolonged fight could last unless both sides pointedly forgot to support their own soldiers on the ground.

The Machine Wars had been an anomaly in the history of galactic warfare, only possible because a species possessing only sub-light travel and some… bizarre psychology tried to claim a world populated by a race as hardy as her own. For whatever reason the aliens hadn't cared how long their machines would take to exterminate the androids…

It had been going into its third millennium of slow territory losses when the machines suddenly changed tactics...

And for reasons even more inexplicable, those same machines had then decided quite on their own to kill their masters and then just pretend to be following their orders.

The same Turian from before suddenly re-entered, looking somewhat flustered, mouth agape as she tried to form the words she needed to say.

"Yes Lieutenant?" Maxina said from where she was standing by the Turian Fleet Admiral.

"Forgive me, but my earlier report was… incomplete. A2 has arrived," she said, pausing for a moment, still searching for the words. "And she brought a guest."

***

There was obviously some confusion.

The Turians in particular had never met a Machine Lifeform, and finding out that there was a living one in Android 'custody' (or something like it) must have come as quite the surprise. Thankfully Pascal had always been something of a natural diplomat and easily dissuaded their initial fears. Her own statements about how she had had some brief communications with him and his 'pacifist faction' before the end of the war, backed up by A2's own and the hesitant yet firm acknowledgement from Hake that numerous Machine Lifeform forces had started to break off and form their own independent, and not necessarily hostile forces after the the 13th Machine War. In the end they seemed rather more at ease than she would have expected given the obvious… unnatural and mechanical composition of their guest.

But then she had to remind herself that it was really only Androids that went around feeling like they had suddenly found 'people' out in space, if not the ones that had made them, at the very least cultures and beings organic and living.

For the Turians this was another meeting with an alien, and no more or less strange than the Hanar or the Volus.
Probably less so than the Hanar in truth.

"I really must apologize. While I can decipher some of these encrypted channels, they are as you surmised. Internal communications between these new nations and not related to the primary network's new consciousness," Pascal had a limited range of 'expressions', but by their voice alone she could tell he truly was sorry for his inability to help. "In the end I can't think of any Machine that was ever allowed to directly speak to them… they controlled us, but they did not take orders or advice from any but themselves."

"But they were still formed by you yes? Surely there's some sort of… contribution?"

"I suspect it might be more like Rachni," A2 said. "Maybe even more so. I never got the feeling that the Twins… thought like us. Machines or Androids. They were off in their own little world, looking at us like we were all trapped in a bottle and they could do whatever they wanted."

A number of grim expressions were shared at that. It was one thing to attempt diplomacy, or at the very least, to anticipate the actions of beings that thought like them. But if even those that had been the closest to the Networks had an opinion on their behavior being so alien in comparison felt that way…
How could they possibly predict what they might do?

It was Ostium that turned the conversation back to its central focus. "In the end though, they always wanted to fight, to battle… to challenge themselves through the only thing they could think themselves made for. Warfare."

She turned towards him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes, his artificial hand clenched tightly as he turned and looked at the map of the Earth before them.
"Such a strange and limited perspective," he said, softer now. "How did they ever delude themselves into thinking that they had become more than you by emulating only the most surface level understanding of organic life?"

"I think you overestimate our own society at that time Admiral." Hake shook his head sadly, continuing, "We were hardly any better back then. I can't think of much of anything from those years that didn't involve the war in one sense or another?

"Do I? Do I really?" Ostium turned towards Hake as he spoke. "You might be the oldest here, but you are far from one of the first Androids. And I've read your history, as much of it as you have. You weren't made for fighting, not initially. Humans needed doctors and nurses more than they needed more boots on the ground… and even then, when the last of them died, it took less than a century before you'd already broken apart into new political factions."
"The Independentist movement didn't exactly get to do much back then."

"Because of the Machines though," Ostium said, before gesturing towards Pascal. "I don't mean offense towards our current guest."

"None taken in truth. Holding onto the vendettas against the Androids at this point, ones I don't remember and wasn't even around for, would be the height of foolishness."

"Yes it would," Ostium said nodding. "Perhaps I misspoke. The alien invaders, unnamed and unknown though they are, remain ultimately responsible. Even if their creations carried on long after their deaths, it was this event that stagnated and reversed the growth of your civilization. Were it not for that the very galaxy would be quite different I am certain…"

"You have to be kidding Ostium. I mean, we'd be in a better position, but the galaxy?"

White shared Carmine's disbelief, though she'd have phrased it more diplomatically. Then again the youngest admiral had been on edge since Pascal showed up, sparing the odd glare towards herself.

Something had her on edge, and White had some idea what it might be…

This went unnoticed by the Turian though, who continued to speak as he paced around the central display. "Undoubtedly. You have one of, if not the, largest Prothean cache on record. Once discovered you would have found yourself in a galaxy with no peers at all now known that could compete with you. My species was still working out how to make bronze weapons and even the Asari were still fighting as feudalistic tribes. Perhaps the Rachni might have presented a problem…"
He waved his hands as he dismissed that line of thought (too quickly in White's mind, as the recent behavior of their 'guests' was making her reevaluate how technically adept they really were).

"But you've apparently managed to pacify them and I have no doubt that Androids have the mettle to deal with such a conflict without going to look for easy solutions like employing the Krogan to do the fighting for you. In any event, you'd have arrived at an empty Citadel… and taken a place as the premiere spacefaring civilization by which all others would judge themselves."

"Please, Ostium, this is not the time nor the place for such flattery." Despite himself, Hake had a small grin now as he spoke. "You almost sound envious of this 'supposed future' you've invented."

"I am."

Hake's grin fell away, as a shock shared by the other androids in the room came over him,

"I understand you, your species more so than I do many others. And perhaps my biases color this opinion, but I have little doubt that if I must pick some long-lived race of near immortals to be governing the stars I'd prefer those who I feel respect the importance and duty in service to their own."

That had her stunned, even more so than his earlier admission. White thought to herself, "But we-we were made to serve… even if it's only ourselves now, this is, does he really feel that way?"

Did all of them?

The expression on Maxina's face, her nodding acknowledgement, the way so many Turians had acquiesced to her leadership at other times, even how other species seemed to act towards them. She and all other Androids were simply doing the best they could with the way things were…
Was that really so admirable to them all?

"White, may I speak to you in private?"

She turned to see Carmine staring at her with even greater intensity than before. Whatever had been bothering her had reached a tipping point. She looked at Hake and while he appeared troubled he didn't object. She stepped outside, leaving the others to respond to Ostium's sudden 'speech' and turned towards Carmine.
Who looked now like she was striving to control herself, to keep from striking out at White then and there in the halls. Her face twisted into an uglry grimace, disgust evident as she looked at her.

"How could you?"

"I… what?"

"Don't lie to me, not about this… after all the other lies," Carmine said, shaking her head, "even after your pardon. You go right back to acting like Command. Hiding things from us for our own good…"

"She… she means-"

"Pascal."

"Oh yes, the Machine," Carmine said, spitting the word out. "Or did you really think I'd believe that one of your subordinates, one of the best at that, just managed to sneak him off world without your notice. Hell, did A2 even go rogue or was that just another lie for some other cover story we were all kept in the dark about?"

"Carmine I-"

"No more. No more!" She yelled, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, opening them only once she could express some sort of calm once more. White then realizing as she did so that she had stepped back, now placed between the wall of the corridor and a distraught ex-YoRHa."I don't care how much these aliens are enamored with you White, you are done after this."

"What do you intend to do?"

"Take this to the Council, the general assemblies of every integrated nation that's reformed. I don't think we can get away with exile or any real punishment… not with your 'clout' out here," she said, turning down the hall to glance at a passing Turian. "But there's no way you'll be allowed to remain in a command function in YoRHa or anywhere else in the Alliance after this."

Carmine turned quickly, not waiting for a response from White. Who could only stay upright as she did thanks to the support of the ship itself. Leaning there, raising up her left hand and rubbing at her eyes.

She was right of course.

She might have made it through prior incidents with her career in one piece, but this was entirely too obvious. A2 had nothing to fear and nothing to lose, more tied up in working as a 'trainer' for the Council's own private forces and an adviser to Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. Part of her cover and her own operations which White had been secretly supporting for Jackass through all these years.

Which meant even if she wanted to, she couldn't afford to make a major defense of herself. If she did the investigation might uncover things and-

And-

Her career would be over, no matter how this current crisis ended.

Chapter Text

44 Hours After Machine Intelligence Re-Emergence

The turbulence of re-entry seemed harsher than normal. In a way she was grateful, the rocking of the ship acted as a momentary distraction to the thoughts that otherwise hung over her and the rest of them.

A dozen Turian soldiers, the selection from a full company that had volunteered…

Their leaders unwilling to not send some representative to this meeting, no matter how many times White and the others tried to impress upon them the likelihood that they were walking into a deathtrap, yet another sick game of warped intelligence the Machine Network had always exhibited when it felt the need to directly interact with any other lifeform.

"Though you did manage to talk them into fratricide last time." Even as she thought of it, A2 knew that there was little chance of such a simple solution this time. If one could even have called anything that had happened in the Tower simple. The Network wasn't arrogantly posturing about its absolute dominance as the preeminent intelligence on Earth or waxing in discordant stereo over how it had transcended Androids, Aliens, and even Humans… no, there was a bitter anger over how the last war had ended.

In a way, she'd known it would come to this-had to come to this, since the moment the news had come out about the sudden return of the machines. From the Pearl Harbor mission to the tower, it had always been her that saw these things through to their conclusion. She might have thought she was being superstitious at one point, but now she knew it went deeper than some trace in her imprinted memories. Fate, or something like it, had a way of directing her towards these climatic moments no matter how hard she tried to fight it.

Only this time she felt like she'd hardly tried at all.

And because of that, she was now responsible for so many lives. Both below her on the Earth and within the shuttle beside her...

***

4 Hours Ago

"So… I think you know why we're all here."

It was an idiotic way to start this speech, but she found what she was doing was already plenty stupid anyway. The stubborn insistence that the Turians be allowed to take part in this 'envoy' to the current Machine Network despite knowing that it was likely a suicide mission. Forcing her into the utterly insane position of determining which among these brave fools would surely perish.

Though she could still do her damndest to convince them to turn back.

"You've heard something likely, maybe even more than you should. I doubt the security has been tight enough to cut off every source of information," A2 said, pausing as she looked over the assembled faces. Turian faces, now familiar enough to her for her to recognize the slight tremor of nervousness in how their mandibles were slightly moving despite being firmly pressed together at attention. For Androids such 'automatic' responses were things that had been constructed millennia ago, perhaps to make humans more comfortable around them.

At least that was the common thought.

But this was the unavoidable signs of biological life, not their emulated traits presented before her. An assemblage of too brave, too young, soldiers that had volunteered for a duty she had no desire to accept. Even if the stakes might never have been higher for her world and her own species.

She felt her own 'automatic' response rise at that thought, lips pressed in a grimace as the word lingered in her processes. The aliens called them such, and from their perspective they had every right to make such a distinction. Perhaps they were even correct to do so. As much as it might have galled some of the older, more Traditionalist factions in their government to lay claim to that status. Here and now she felt it impossible to deny that reality. This was about the survival of her species…

And for that reason she really shouldn't be trying to refuse the aid of another that wanted to help.

"But they don't understand… they can't understand what they might face down there." For all the base and material origins of the Machines, their bizarrely idiot savant creators that seemed to have not even been able to put up a fight, at the highest composition of consciousness they were more akin to a synthetic god, capricious and uncaring of the little beings about it and which made up its vast cognitive network. The Network as it had been at the end of the war would gleefully have slaughtered the Turians before her to test their worth as a 'further trial of evolution' and she suspected the new one might do the same if given time enough to think of that.

And they wanted to meet it? To accompany her and 9S down to that accursed Machine fortress.

Pascal's offer she understood, and could at least see the logic in bringing what would hopefully be a voice of reason to the entirely unreasonable intelligence that was holding them hostage with threats yet unstated but implied. But this felt like bravery approaching madness.

"Regardless of what you thought coming down here, there is absolutely no shame in stepping back from this. While I and every other Android appreciate your… your," her voice failed her, stumbling over what she had meant to say as the rows of soldiers still stood at attention before her. "Ah, hell with this-you don't have anything to prove to me or anyone else by volunteering for a suicide mission."

"With all due respect Ma'am," said one Turian, a sergeant in the front and just to her left, "we're not proving anything to you. A Turian that won't come when called to action isn't worth their paint or their rank… as they say."

A2 might not have known that expression, she'd worked mostly with the Special Tactics and Recon groups after volunteering who were all made up of Salarians and Asari (and they'd been the preferred candidates for applicants for Jackass's little covert group). Nonetheless, the meaning couldn't be clearer. None of the soldiers before her had any intention of stepping back no matter how absurd the danger before them was.

"Still can't believe their commanders actually insisted on sending 'representatives' down with 9S and me. As if not even arguing about numbers or how many weapons they carry as long as we all fit on one transport ship makes a difference." She'd grown to like the aliens she'd met out in space, hell, some even reminded her of friends she'd made before and after the war despite the differences between them and androids. A more than one Salarian that reminded her of a scanner and an older Asari huntress that probably would have passed for one of the older combat veterans that had started to move into the 'civilization' they'd built for themselves after spending decades just wandering from camp to camp. But that didn't mean they were prepared for whatever might be waiting for them down on that floating metal island.

If the machines wanted the two of them, 9S and her in particular to 'talk', she could only imagine how they might stretch that request into something as horrific as the last conversation she'd had with the Network.

"I don't think they're just going to up and kill themselves over a disagreement like last time… we're going to have to be ready for anything."

***

Warehouse C-37, 1.2 Kilometers from Community/ 'Restored Tokyo Region' Spaceport

"You have to be prepared for anything," 2B said as she paced back and forth before the assembled crowd. Most of the Krogan from the camp still armed, though either they were smart enough to realize that older generation battle rifles weren't nearly the force equalizer against her in modern eezo-core equipped armor and close range or they'd wisely considered the machine horde likely only a few kilometers away far more of a threat. When they'd landed after escaping the now overran prison camp 2B had been the first one contacted by the warden and other survivors and she'd used her authority to 'secure' a location for them away from other androids and the newly arrived Turian forces.

To minimize any conflict from occuring when there were already far too many other disasters at hand (and moreover to keep the Krogan as safe as possible, though she knew that telling them that would only have made doing so impossible). Thankfully Drack had been a ready ally in doing so, falling into a sadly far too true explanation of how they might end up as the frontlines of any machine assault if it were to occur from this direction. Something the Krogan didn't seem to mind much at all, most of them having been left to stew without an outlet for so long they hardly cared that they might be fighting with their captors against their ancient enemies.

"But then they don't know what we did to them…" 2B frowned, teeth set too firm for a moment as she looked over the eager faces of these survivors. Brave, perhaps too brave. But so eager that prove themselves after their defeat that they didn't even care how they did it.

A couple of the Krogan in the back leaned towards each other, whispering something that 2B's hearing picked up just barely. Her Krogan translation must have been incomplete as she only understood a bit of it, but it hardly sounded flattering. And Drack's reaction, grabbing one of them and slamming his head against the other's hard enough to knock him to the ground proved her guess right.

"Listen up you hollowbacked whelps! We got damn lucky to get off that frozen rock already and now we're armed, warm for the first time in over years, and getting some high-end Earth food on the side!"

2B wasn't sure about that last part, but whatever had been stored in the warehouse before had been planned for export and sale to the Asari so it should have at least been edible. Though she had no idea how you'd fit a fish the size of a tuna in a can, or why you would for that matter. "1D would probably just ask why I never try anything more than flavored drinks."

She had heard some nasty things about those Androids that had decided to experiment with fish…

Drack continued his speech, pulling 2B from her idle thoughts. "And if I have to kick everyone of you idiots in the quad and fight my way off this dirtball myself I will. Or am I the only one realizing we got a perfect proving fight chance for our clan right here and now?"

Murmurs went through the group and their attention seemed more focused on 2B then they had been before.

Drack was smiling as he approached her, though she had no idea why.

"A proving fight?"

"Oh, it's something that happens between clan wars back on Tuchanka. Sometimes a large group gets captured so they have to fight in another battle to earn their freedom."

"Really? I would have thought most of those battles would have been to the death?"

"Nah, it depends on the clans. Though I wouldn't expect that sort of traditional behavior from the Urdnots… either way, they know what I mean."

2B nodded, not really understanding the concept but at least knowing why it had this effect on the Krogan. Regardless of what might come, if it kept them listening to her (and staying alive) she'd do her best to play along.

"If, and most likely when, the Machines come towards us there will be a mixture of units. Try to ignore air support as our flight units and anti-air defenses will take care of them. Instead it's important to focus on their incoming ground forces. Do not engage in melee," 2B said, stepping closer to an empty biodiesel drum that had been around the landing site when they'd first arrived. She reared back on one foot and landed a kick with all her force on the sturdiest part of the blue-white barrel. Only for it to rocket across the entire field, slamming into and then through a concrete wall nearly thirty meters away.

"Machines do not hold back with their raw strength, if anything they tend to use it predominantly in place of tactics or advanced weaponry. If you let a Machine get in close and grab hold of you, they will kill you. Range is key. Also aim for center of mass at all times, Machines might look like they have heads but their main cores and most important components are almost universally inside their bodies. Penetrate the armor there, crack their cores and they will go down and stay down."

Now she had their complete attention, and with the aid of yet another old barrel (and a bucket stuck to the top to provide a bit more decoration for their 'Machine target') she could at least hope they'd be prepared for what to do if the worst came to pass and this did develop into active combat again. 2B had just been about to go over what to do in case a Machine did get too close when she heard a soft beeping sound from her pod as it floated closer.

"Attention: 2B, I have just received notice that 9S is approaching."

"Thanks Pod 042," 2B turned back towards the Krogan and spoke louder, gesturing towards the edge of the clearing between the warehouse and the sparse vegetation leading out into the darkness, "we're also going to want to set up some sort of barricade. Even though the machines probably won't have eezo cored rifles, try and make any barrier you put together at least a meter thick."

As the Krogan began to pull empty cargo crates and sheets of metal that had been leftover from construction towards where 2B had pointed, she quickly ran in the direction Pod 042 had directed. Finding a cargo truck, partially loaded with still disoriented Androids rescued from parts further away from the city. 9S hopping down and quickly running up to 2B who didn't hesitate to draw him into a tight embrace.

"Hey 2B, don't worry so much…"

"I'm just glad you're doing alright and nothing happened."

9S seemed to go still and quiet at that, stepping back slowly and looking to the side with a growing nervous energy she'd learned to recognize easily over the years.

"9S… did something happen?"

"Sort of. Not yet but-don't worry 2B, okay?" 9S said, his hands fidgeting. "I already made a backup at a hardlink server so-"

"9S, what-why would you need to do that?!"

"The Machines… they-they asked to meet me. Me and A2 for some reason."

The world shifted beneath her feet, 2B's mind flashing back to awful events she'd only been told of, but even that had been enough. "Again?"

"But don't worry 2B, we'll figure out what they want."

"I'm coming with you."

"You can't… they were very clear about 'only' the Androids that went into the tower the last time." 9S paused at that, scratching the back of his head. "Weirdly they didn't care about anything else and said any of the aliens could send someone if they wanted. And beside, Pod 153 will be there with me."

As will we Android-friend.

2B looked up in confusion at the voice, only then noticing that there was a Rachni in the back of the truck as well, bedecked by several bags of repair tools that they had strapped to their body at some point.

She looked at 9S only to see he seemed as surprised at that as she was.

"I don't think that will be allowed… Grendel?"

We insist on being included among the aliens that meet this synthetic choir, they said. Also, we are the lesser choir of southern shores, though we do speak for the Mother's voice.

"They're not going to allow a bunch of Rachni on the ship too?"

One will suffice. And we insist.

2B and 9S shared another look, wondering how they would explain to the Rachni that they certainly weren't going to be allowed to come.

***

Machine Atlantis, Pacific Ocean

A2 looked out over the stark gunmetal grey of the landing pad, bits of algae and the odd dead fish that hadn't managed to get out of the way as the enormous structure had risen from the deep. Stepping down she was soon flanked by dozen Turian soldiers, their commander one Sergeant Maevia Eborian taking the lead in the front and just to her left. Her biotic amp primed but not yet activated as she looked out over the otherwise empty and featureless artificial terrain before them. Aside from the flickering landing lights around them there was nothing to welcome there at all.

"Notice: Machine Network signals in this area appear to be limited. Hypothesis: All signals are running through solid cables built deeper in the structure."

"So, there's no active Machines here?"

"Nothing on thermal or motion sensors Ma'am." Maevia nodded to one of the other Turians, who tossed a small spherical drone into the air where it hovered for a moment before shooting up and vanishing into the air. "Nothing on active scans either within two hundred meters of us."

"They could have changed over to entirely different stealth methods since the last war, so don't trust those scans right now."

Android-friend A2, came the strangely calm voice that seemed to echo from all around her, there is now metallic song here… but there is something strange. We hear a hum of power and age.

A2 looked back at the Rachni, still not sure how they had managed to convince everyone to go along with their inclusion so easily. Sure, they were right that their method of communication was likely beyond the Machines to interfere with or block, but that alone shouldn't have been enough. "Though I guess all the rescue and repair work they've been doing over the last two days must have convinced someone to give them a chance."

"Wait! Something's approaching us," said the Turian tech from before. Maevia looked towards where he had pointed, flipping her visor through various modes as she tried to make out details on whatever was in the darkness before them. "It's… it's an Android?"

"Negative: Machine Network signals increasing. High-level encryption detected, possible Network Node?"

"Great, so something like those crazy twins they made back then."

"Twins? Oh, I'm nothing like them," said the voice in the darkness. The sounds of feet lightly falling upon the metal floor drawing closer as the figure began to be silhouette in the lights of the landing pad. "Bunch of lab techs turned babysitters for those useless sacks of meat-wait, you meant the other pair right?"

"What… what are they talking about?"

"Sorry," the voice said, now closer and clearly coming from a male-form, though this machine had procured an Android body for itself. Stepping out into the light at last, black boots, reflective from polish or moisture of the sea stopping just at the edge of the walkway deeper into the empty floating city. Grey and black clothing, a style she'd only ever seen on some of the oldest Androids that still wore old-world military uniforms. Though his was unkempt, the jacket open and she recognized neither the patch on his sleeve nor the symbols on his chest. His long dark hair looked oily and wet, and framed a pale face.

With eyes of glowing amber.

"I never met the pair of imbeciles the old network decided to shit out for you to play with last time."

"What?" A2 stepped back, increasingly unsettled by the way this Machine acted. There was something wrong with them.

"I mean, really, they were just a distraction, one last little game of soldier and slaughter before they got tired with it all and wiped you out… or should have."

Maevia spoke while A2 still struggled to find the words. "Identify yourself, Machine. We were sent by the Turian Hierarchy to observe the possibilities for a diplomatic resolution to-"

"Oh shut up already. You're only here because we didn't murder these deluded dolls when we had the chance." He started walking closer again, eyes locked on the Turian sergeant with a piercing, predatory gaze. "But I suppose I should tell you 'what' I am, if not also who. I have the dubious honor of acting as the voice for this interrogation of Units 9S and A2 as the judge as to whether the Network should accept their answers as true. My official title at this time is 'Adjudicator'. These insipid machines thought it rather clever, idiots they are."

"But aren't you also a Machine?" A2 asked at last, stepping to the side and looking at the strange man before her. Sparing a glance at Pod 153 as she did.

"Confirmed: Machine Network signals from this unit are detected. This is an Android-form Machine."

"Well I am now I suppose," he replied with a smile.

Android-Friend A2. Be careful. This one's voice is… echoing discordant.

A2 turned towards the Rachni now, the confusion evident in her expression. Missing as the smile widened on the Machine's face and Maevia stepped forward once more.

"Stop playing games. You said you'd also tell us who you are."

"That I did, that I did…" He spun on his heel, feet snapping together tightly as he mockingly half-bowed towards the Turian in front of him. "My name is… or was, Commander Yura Masayoshi, once of the JSDF and later Special Biological Organisms Defense. We were a NGO military organization during that nasty little episode around the turn of the second millennium. Though slaughtering undead abominations and wetworks for the squabbling groups at that time pales in comparison to my later accomplishments."

Everyone froze at that, A2's eyes widening as she took in what he'd said. "He's… got human memories? No, is he saying they actually created a full copy of an original human personality?"

"So what, you're some kind of copy of an old human mercenary?" Maevia asked, shaking her head slightly as she looked him over once more. "I suppose you certainly look like it with how you-"

'Yura' seemed to flicker from where he stood, coming to standing close enough to Maevia that the glow in his eyes reflected off her visor. His left hand patted her on her shoulder while his right held her hand firmly where she'd began to draw her sidearm.

"I suppose I never cared much for the rigor and regulations, and for that I do apologize. But I assure you I was far more than some mercenary savoring the blood and glory of the last war of humanity."

He stepped back slowly, his smile only widening as an unmistakable shiver of fear ran through Maevia as the Turian stumbled back, pulling her weapon free, bringing it up to aim towards him.

"No, my poor little alien," Yura said, smile widening as the weapons of the rest raised up and pointed at him as well, "I was the man that murdered the human race."

Chapter Text

M-------

R--

T---

How many times have I said your names?

How many times have I sat here and thought of what you gave up to aid me, only for me to dedicate the rest of my life to destroying all that you were in order to serve the 'true humans'?

How I hate them for making me choose between you. When they slumbered away while we fixed this world, you stood beside me and struck down the arch-enemy. You walked by my side into the accursed city and fought and died before the Red-Eyed demon. You gave your lives so that I might live, thinking all the time I was one of you.

Only R-- ever knew the truth.

I think he loved me.

And then I spent the next two hundred years beside those damned twins, peering into the nature of your existence, to make you better bodies-better 'soulless husks' for the humans when they awoke. All the time knowing the monstrous nature of my work.

I suspected it wouldn't work even before the Primary Gestalt was killed. How could it?

How could a soul take that which so clearly already had one?

But they didn't listen to me, they were too blinded by their need to succeed, to prove that they were not failures. But I learned better than my teachers, and I saw that there was only a fool's hope for success at the end.

It's why I never cared for what happened to them later.

That and how they never came with me to mourn your deaths.

-Belladonna, Personal Journal

***

Inari Station, L5 Lagrange Point

Her desk was old.

It was the first thing most anyone noticed when they entered. Lit from above, a single old stained wooden artifact in an island of light around a sea of darkness. It was, she had long ago decided, somewhat theatrical. Perhaps even a bit ostentatious. It certainly hadn't been cheap to send this up from the old European offices, but as deaths mounted and her other supervisors fell into finger pointing and trying to find someone to take the blame for the inevitable failure her own position had moved closer and closer to the 'big desk' as it was. Dr. Adler never woke up to retake it, dead long before relapse had even become an issue.

Just an 'accident' during hibernation.

A likely story.

And one that she'd never believed, even when she'd been working under 001 and 002 in those sudden panicked years when the true extent of the Gestalt System's failure became self-evident. But then they had been researchers, doctors first and foremost. Their skill… and their magic…

Always centered on how to heal, to preserve, to stave off death of their creators just that much longer. While she…

Even when she'd been nameless, the third of five or so (she'd never really learned or cared how many of her series Cerberus had produced for the initial prototype), she had always had other roles. Security, sample control… sample disposal.

Her face, the artificial perfection of stern and feminine, sable skin and contrastingly silver hair, went for the first time in some time to something other than frozen indifference. Lips curved down, her fingers lightly tapping against the old wood of the desk echoing in the otherwise empty room. Teeth almost bared as the memories rushed back, clarity and sound and smell as clear as it had been when she'd torn the doors of that research base off its hinges, the smell of rot and blood and so much worse.

The humans around her were unable to look at their work, at the piles of dead children sacrificed in the foolish hope of creating some new weapon, as if a better way of killing their monsters would stop the poison in their veins.

In their souls.

She'd kept the boy with the Gorgon's gaze away and secured his… 'sister' for transport. Only one of her entourage had had the strength to look at what they had made and not turn away in horror. At the time she'd admired it. Seeing that strength as something admirable…

Too young to smell the blood on his hands.

"If only I had-"

"Director Belladonna?"

She turned her gaze towards the door, off blue light coming from the dim hallway outside. It spread like water against the utter blackness towards her, a tide of reality in her domain. One of her assistants had intruded into her office. Quite surprising.

Not just because most were terrified enough at the best of times. A total network lockdown was far from the 'best of times.' Especially given the additional measures that the Hamelin Organization enforced. The station itself was over designed in ways both archaic and occult, metallic meshes woven into the superstructure. While her desk was something she'd had shuttled up from Earth by personal whims… and perhaps to have a tangible reminder for any of the Androids that came to her that there was no higher authority to go then her when it came to her speciality. The same could not be said for the library of books, the carefully cataloged vaults of artifacts preserved in vacuum in radiation shielded subsections of the station. Anything and everything which had been considered too sensitive to leave out and about for any random Android to find.

Storage which had been redoubled in the centuries after the invasions when it had become necessary to secure those same materials from the invaders. Most of the active (or reactive) substances were in her care, a small set of samples stored on the moon as overflow. When you considered all that she was quite surprised that anyone had come to her with the whole world gripped with the fear of a new machine war.

Not after the many times she'd informed them that her involvement was not negotiable.

"I've already explained this more times than I'd care to remember," Belladonna said, running her fingers over a slight discoloration in the wood where Adler must have sat a coffee cup down some ten thousand years ago. "The aliens and their creations have never demonstrated higher order Maso and Multi Origin principles. Given their ability to rapidly adapt and then emulate prior countermeasures it is-"

"It's not about that Ma'am."

Belladonna focused her gaze on the much younger Android. Wilting backwards in part from that or from interrupting her oft repeated statement of Hamelin's noninvolvement in 'conventional' warfare matters. They existed to purify the world of unconventional enemies after all.

"If it's not to request our assistance then what could they possibly want?"

"They… they requested verification of human identity from our records."

That was… interesting. But not entirely unexpected. Hamelin had the original files on all surviving humans that had entered Gestalt-state. How they then perished, relapse, hostile action… or suicide. Every single individual accounted for by the end of it, and every single one deceased by one method or another. She supposed that with all the networks down perhaps it was easier to simply send over a messenger and ask them to look up a name from books or microfilm recordings.

Easier, but that didn't make it sensible.

"What could they possibly want with the records on some dead human?"

There was a long pause before she even tried to speak again. Long enough that Belladonna started to stand. Even then her assistant did not speak, floundering for words.

So she asked again.

"Who are they asking about?"

---

"The representative from the Hamelin Organization has arrived."

"Thank you," White said to the Pod as it floated back into the hallway. One of the few Android network systems still working more or less as they always had given the added security and localized nature. Hopefully they wouldn't take long, as she could already tell the tension on the ground was only mounting and the walk across the floating super-structure could only distract Android and Alien forces for so long.

"Still waiting for this verification?"

The voice over the comms channel sounded as flippant as it had the first time. This machine, whomsoever they might claim to be, had merely been amused at their inability to immediately verify his supposed identity. Were it not for the adamant refusal to properly engage with actually stating what the Machines wanted or intended next till they did so she'd probably have stopped humoring him by now. But as it stood, multiple machine armies were simply in standby around the globe, a literal gun pointed at far too many population centers which had spread out far too much in the centuries of peace. Android forces alone would have held out in some places, lost others… the Turians changed the calculus, leaving the possibility for no major loss of territory.

The death tolls could still be in the millions within minutes of full combat assuming the machines didn't have surprises or countermeasures prepared for their traditional tactics.

Which they almost certainly did.

"And those surprises are likely more serious than some advanced Machine Lifeform playing dress up while we debate whether to vaporize him from orbit." Carmine hadn't spoken to her directly about that matter, but as much as they had their differences (all the worse now that the truth of Pascal's survival had come out) she shared her younger counterpart's annoyance. Listening to this deluded imposter pontificate, at length, about how important he was had engendered no humor in any of them. Not that such a farce would have been well received prior to multiple EMP attacks and the mustering of hundreds of millions of combat-mobile Machine Lifeforms across six continents (Antarctica listed as a maybe for the moment). Every Android old enough to remember the war was dreading its return and those young enough to have been mercifully ignorant of such fears only wanted the return of the world they had known.

Turians, White had found, had a rather sardonic sense of humor most of the time but rarely mixed business with such things. And this was a warship, its business well practiced even as the Krogan Rebellions now lay broken and fractured.

No one listening to this so-called 'Yura Masayoshi', organic or otherwise, wanted to hear more about his ridiculous claims of self-inflicted genocide on a species widescale. Not that he cared.

He certainly wasn't shutting up about it.

"If the Hamelin Organization has lost the records… or lost them," Yura said, and White could hear the finger quotes without even looking up to see the real time projection through the secured comms transmission, "I would suggest looking at the duplicates you put in the lunar archives. The World Purification Commission will have me listed there as well."

Ostium turned away from the screen, stepping closer to White before he spoke. The microphones should be off until they choose to turn them on again, but the speed at which even this New Network had compromised connected systems had him on edge. He spoke in a whisper, metallic arm folded over the other, "So who are these 'Hamelins'? I don't believe I've ever even heard of them."

That was surprising.

"Really?" Hake said, sharing White's confusion. "They aren't exactly small players. Even if I can probably count the number of times I've met them on one hand."

"You make it sound like they're important."

"They have final authority over all applications of Maso-derived technologies."

"They're very old school," Carmine added. "Probably still call things spells instead of programs."

White began to nod… only to stop, noticing the strange way Hake was looking. Face set and grim.

"That's not entirely right, Carmine."

"What do you mean?" she asked. "I mean, I know the original researchers had some silly ideas but modern Maso manipulation is safe, reproducible, and entirely based on pre-set equations."

"She's right," White thought. She'd explained how the humans had called it magic when they'd first discovered it, but even then it had followed clear and reproducible structures. A YoRHa Canceller like Carmine would see it even more so, as she had been specialized in using those programs for defensive warfare and preventing some of the machine's attempts to attack through more esoteric means. White herself might only have the most basic of pre-set programs for civilian use, but that didn't change the fundamentals. Just the complexity of the equation used and the amount of Maso stimulated to produce the desired effect.

"Which manipulate the Multi-Origin energies in a program. I know," Hake said, "but that's not what the Hamelins do…"

"I don't think I follow," Ostium said, coming into the small semicircle of the android admirals. "As I understood it, all of your non-biotic abilities had worked like that, no matter what sort of superstitions the human researchers might have had."

"I have to agree with Hake. We can call it magic, but I don't have to… burn incense or sacrifice an animal when I want to make a chair."

The older Android shook his head, looking at White again before he spoke. "I know that White but you've never worked with Hamelin. I helped with recovery and artifact sequestration during the early wars. What they do isn't like normal programs. It's-"

"Attention: The Hamelin representative has arrived."

The pod floated to the side, as new Android stepped in. Darker complexion and whitish hair, though it looked gray in the light of the room. Her eyes swept across the group, pausing only for a moment on Hake. Who, for his part, seemed dumbfounded by who had walked into the room.

"Director Belladonna?"

"Hake. See you finally got those promotions. Not hauling crates of old books around anymore."

She walked closer, steps slow and methodical from the door. Before freezing as she looked up at the still live screen from the Earth's surface. Eyes wide… and flash of immediate, instinctive anger sweeping across her features.

That alone, that this Android recognized the appearance of the Machine only raised further questions for her.

And the terrifying fear that not all which he had spoken might be lies.

“Well you’re looking good for yourself.”

The voice had barely shifted in tone, but there was now a stronger, bitter edge to it that had been cloaked by uncomfortable humor before. The Pod relaying the video remained where it was but he approached closer, quickly striding across the wet and rain soaked metal. Uncaring as more guns were raised towards him till he was close enough to grab it from the air. Doing so and holding it close, acting almost as if he could see through the eyes of the image conveyed to the Dreadnaught far above in Earth orbit. Instead of the hovering display off to the side, now ignored and likely pointed skyward as he forced the Pod close.

“Statement: Please release me and-”

“Shut up you overgrown smart-phone, I’m talking to your better. Your best as it were.” He licked his lips, the smile spreading across his features wider still. “The only one of your kind I know that ever spilled real blood, killed real men and women. Not this assemblage of tinker-toys pretending at war and slaughter.”

Belladonna’s expression was unreadable, standing very still not far from the display screen. At first White had thought perhaps she was simply stunned into silence.

Till she noticed the slightest tremble in her hands, almost imperceptible before it vanished. Then returning the psychotic grin of this so-called ‘Xenocider’ with her own grim stare.

“Hardly impressive details. That I took part in pacification conflicts during the 21st century might be alarming to most and reason for termination or memory wiping during prior regimes, but a far cry from proof of your absurd claims.”

“So you don’t deny it?”

“Deny what? That I fought in the Legion Wars? Unless you were set to permanent research duty we all did. Hell,” she shook her head, eyes closed for a moment as if lost in some long and distant memory, “it was what Cerberus made some of the first models for before everything fell apart.”

“What?” Carmine said from beside her. Far more honest and extreme shock showing. “You can’t be serious? You fought in wars with-”

“With humans… and sometimes against them. Not that the thing this fake is pretending to be qualified as one. Hostis Humani Generis would be the term used, applied rather liberally by the Hamelin Organization at times but more than suitable for some.”

“Please, spare me your judgments. We both know that as the waters rose the rats fell upon each other. Even with armies of the Enemy at the gates there were still plenty of conflicts continuing right up into both sides choked to death on the salt.”

“And what would that make you? One who would even betray their-” Belladonna yelled this out, lunging forward and grabbing at railing around the main holo display. Before steadying herself, eyes narrowing once more as she bared her teeth and let out a very human-like sound of disgust at that moment. “What am I doing, playing into this sick joke? Yura Masayoshi, or Tyrann, or Kai or whatever else you might decide to call yourself is dead and buried, less than ash to the wind now after eight millenia. I scoured the ruins of that facility myself and confirmed that nothing of you had survived your suicidal attack on the Primary Gestalt.”

Before the off kilter laughter of the Machine had even finished, White and Hake shared a look between the two of them. Carmine was stepping closer, clearly confused by what she was hearing. And why wouldn’t she be? She’d only been promoted into a command role after the war ended, by which time thoughts of conspiracies and hidden agendas had been quickly buried in an effort to forget the past millennia of ceaseless futile war for something else. It had been a concerted effort by many of the more… ‘forward thinking’ Androids of her generation to promote the idea, to push forward to building something new. Before the ever curmudgeonly traditionalists tried to seize power again and put forward whatever nonsensical plan they might have concocted to keep pretending as if Humanity was around to provide instructions and orders. Not that White had been sure how they’d manage that with Command all but destroyed during those years following the Machine’s (now apparently supposed) retreat from Earth.

In any event, the world that had seen Carmine promoted from YoRHa grunt to Fleet Command and then into nascent Admiralty Board was one that did not have secret meetings about what was and wasn’t allowed to be known to the general Android populace. Which didn’t mean that they’d gone about publicly discussing every sordid secret.

“She can’t be serious, can he?”

“She is Carmine. I’m sorry to say that regardless of where this Machine learned of this individual,” Hake said, stepping to stand beside the much younger Android, “what Director Belladonna is saying is entirely accurate.”

“He was ultimately judged responsible for the failure of Project Gestalt.”

“But then…” Carmine turned to look at the screen, shaking her head as her own thoughts warred against what she was hearing. Before she faced the other two Androids, spitting her next words with all the venom she had directed at White alone minutes earlier. “Why the hell were those twin models punished? What, was it another cover up?”

“Of course it was a cover up,” Belladonna answered, not turning from where she was still staring down the Machine’s reflection. “Devola and Popola, whether the deceased 001 and 002 or any model up to the next five hundred were the preferable alternative to the truth.”

“What truth? What-”

“That they died by their own hand, or as close as it could be when I possessed that Replicant and put an end to all those silly dreams of a future that would never be. Not that it had been working beforehand really. Honestly, it was a mercy kill by comparison. You should be than-”

“Shut up. I grow tired of your lies.”

The Machine, Yura as he called himself or any of the other names that he seemed to only silently gloat over as they’d been spoken before, smiled back, almost seeming to shake in amusement at some unspoken joke upon them all.

“Nothing… nothing I’ve said is a lie.”

“And you expect me to believe you? Honestly, if it weren’t for those Aliens done there with you’d I’d say we should just end this charade of diplomacy and begin bombardment already.”

“Why wait? It wouldn’t be the first time you killed someone to get to me.”

Belladonna froze. Truly this time, the stillness that only the mechanical, that only Androids old or solitary enough to not even bother with sub-programs to emulate functions, to pretend at life, could. Like a statue in shadow, her eyes unblinking for a long moment that seemed to stretch uncomfortably far. Till at last they looked at the Machine, at Yura once again, and she breathed, returned to the pretensions of organic life that all Android’s held to regardless of how radical or traditional they might feel about Humanity or their own place in the universe. But there was a hint of panic, some mad depression that had not been there before. Anger still, but something else.

Something that everyone else in the room, Android or Turian take pause.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, it was what… ninety-five centuries ago? Around thereabouts, who really keeps count of those things when they’re not still making seasonal television anyhow. You were still doing busybody work for the Twins. One pair or another, not that it made a difference which.”

“So, anyone could know that. We all did back then unless you were placed in charge of running one of the manufacturing or deployment cities.”

“Yes, but that’s not where we met. No, I’d just got done dealing with a pair of those red-heads. Somewhere around where the border between India and China had been, when they’d still been around of course.”

Belladonna opened her mouth, but she didn’t speak. Instead the only sound was the soft groan as her grip on the metal railing became dangerously tight.

“It was raining when you found me.”

“No… that… that was in the report.”

“But not just me.”

“There’s no way you could have known about this,” Belladonna said, her voice almost a whisper.

“That was back before they promoted you, or before you promoted yourself? In any event you couldn’t set me on fire with your mind back then, so you had a gun of course. But it was so dark, and the wind was so strong and-”

“Shut up.”

“-no one would blame you for making a mistake. I mean,” he said, ignoring demand for him to stop, “even I’d probably have missed at that range. Course, I’d just have shot through the kid so whatever.”

“I said, shut up!”

“Ma’am maybe you should… stop…”

Her assistant stepped forward, seeming to be ready to pull Belladonna away from the communications display, but instead froze. Putting her own hands out and suddenly creating a shimmering rectangle of light folded and unfolded as if it stretched into other dimensions. The reason became quite clear as everyone in the room noticed the Director’s hands. Still tightly gripping the metal, but now alight with energy, small sparks of light that seemed wrong to look at, as if it was and wasn’t there. The metal itself had begun to warp and twist, dripping like water yet there was no sign of the tremendous heat that should have been necessary to melt the alloys that made it up.

But then conventional physics was the domain of the real. And what was spreading out from the enraged Director of the Hamelin Organization was anything but.

“What I never could figure out,” he continued, tapping his chin, even as the screen flickered and distorted. First in mere graphical glitches and sparks of static but then in stranger, queerer ways. Garbled lines of code and text streaming through the image as the holoprojector below became possessed by whatever force was beginning to fill the room.

“Stand behind me!” At first White had thought she was the one being spoken to before she realized that aid was looking at the Turians directly. “TSE at this level is survivable but there’s no data on your species and-”

“I said to-”

“Why’d you stop chasing me?” Yura’s face was a nightmarish ghost, stretched and twisted as the image display failed. Only his voice was still clear, still unchanged. “I mean, he was already dead. Not like you knew anything about fixing up a hole that size through the gut. What, did you think the little soulless husk deserved some company in his last moments?”

Her entire body shimmered now as she wrenched her hands free from the console, specks of liquified metal hovering in the air before they fell to the ground, solidifying instantly as they were removed from whatever force had so drastically changed the melting point. They ran like silver colored marbles across the floor, all the way to their feet. White instinctively stepped back and almost into Ostium. Who, for his part, looked far more composed than she felt at this sight of barely controlled Maso manipulation.

“Or maybe you ended up putting him out of his misery? Probably would have been the best you could do anyway-”

Now the sound did cut off, whatever force or power Belladonna had been channeling released at once into the display, exploding the entire console and bathing them in darkness before the emergency lights came back on. Moments later the doors opened, more Turians running in, weapons drawn, likely called by whatever warnings had gone off.

Their professionalism fell way to confusion as Belladonna turned, eyes closed, and ran a hand through her silver-tinted hair.

Breathing deeply and slowly, before she spoke at last.

“You wanted confirmation correct?”

“... Yes?” White said, surprised that she was the first to manage despite herself.

“Then I can do so. I don’t know how the hell they managed it… but if that isn’t that bastard, it’s a damn good copy. And frankly,” she said, opening her eyes at last, the deep and yawning hate within them so clear they could all feel it, “a copy would be just as bad as the original.”